


So Klingt Liebe

by alienchrist



Series: The Heat of Borginian Summer [2]
Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Family, Kink Meme, M/M, Post-Canon, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-07
Updated: 2009-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:31:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alienchrist/pseuds/alienchrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Dissonant chords are what make a resolution so beautiful."</i> Four years after their court case with Apollo Justice, Machi and Klavier meet in an unusual place and strike up a relationship, hoping to overcome their scars and compose something amazing. A sequel to <b>The Heat of Borginian Summer</b>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The hospital was blazingly white in the late summer sun. Machi straightened his sunglasses on his face. He moved in slow motion. He climbed each step slowly, planted both feet on it and then moved onto the next one. Once at the door, he checked his phone. He was five minutes late already. Would it be rude of him to just barge in? Machi hated commotions. Couldn't stand it if everyone stared when he came in. And they would stare, wouldn't they? The doctor who ran the thing said he would probably be the only person under 20. They would wonder what a teenager was doing there. They would know he was a nasty kid. They would yell at him for taking advantage of men the way he did. Machi turned to leave.

No. He had to go. He promised. Lamiroir – Thalassa – she wanted him to go.

Machi turned back, facing the glass door. He thought of Thalassa's face. It was round, with soft, beautiful features. Rare was the emotion that stirred her constant serenity. Machi never saw her scowl nor heard her yell; yet she had a will of steel. That day, along with the little Borginian cakes she made with him, she had a slip of paper and a look of stubbornness wrapped in velvet.

"I hope you won't be angry at me for making the presumption, but a friend mentioned this group to me and I thought it couldn't hurt to call about it. I wrote down the information, I thought you might want to check it out." Thalassa handed him the paper.   
On it was written the name of a doctor, a time and place, and a title that made Machi freeze. _Men Surviving Sexual Abuse_.

"Lamiroir," Machi said after what felt like too long a time.

"Machi," she said softly. Thalassa never corrected him, never asked him not to call her by her old name after all these years. It was Machi who wanted to force the change but after all these years, still couldn't. "I worry about you. I know you didn't get along well with the social worker. Your parents—"

"Foster parents," Machi interjected.

"They say you're locked up in yourself. You've yet to make friends at school. You earn high marks in English, better than some kids who grew up speaking it, but you barely speak to anyone. I know they've approached you about therapy, but I thought… maybe this would better, for now, if you see you're not alone."

Machi stared at the small plate of cakes. They were his absolute favorite, flavored with honey and pistachios. They sat in three little stacks, green and wedge-shaped. He knew if he bit one they would stick a little to his teeth and then melt away.

Thalassa broke into the silence. "I can't imagine the pain you went through, what they did to you at that horrible excuse for an orphanage, and Mr. Crescend –"

"Don't you start about him," Machi interrupted. "Not you. I won't hear it."

"Don't you think it's connected? The abuse—"

"Everyone suffers in those places, I didn't have it nearly as bad as some of the girls—"

"Machi, please." Thalassa's eyes were wet with tears. Machi could barely stand to look at her like this. Why couldn't she smile for him? Why couldn't she be happy that he was done with the legal system, and doing so well in school? No, instead it was criticism about how he lived his life. Tears of shame for her dirty, would-be son. "I don't want to lose you again."

"What, you mean like you did with Mr. Crescend? Don't worry about it. No one can love me. Even you – you're only here out of pity, and you'll go home to your real family in an hour or two."

Thalassa's tears became reality then. She embraced Machi and sobbed. Machi touched her arm, but didn't feel the weight there. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel, really. He stood here, touching her arm, watching the crease it made on the fabric of her sleeve. "I'll go," he said after a long time. "If it means you won't cry, I'll go."

Machi turned to leave again. He couldn't go to the meeting after all. Why should he fear Thalassa's disappointment? She had two real, literally magical children who could fulfill her dreams.

As Machi lit the first step, the world twisted around him like a fisheye lens. He crouched there, holding the railing of the steps, waiting for the vertigo to pass.

This was why Thalassa wanted him to go. A dizzy fear state often overcame him, made him sweat and lose the details of the world around him. Sometimes he didn't know why. It was like drowning in emotions he had no capacity to feel.

Even when he steadied, Machi didn't let go of the pole. He pulled his phone from his pocket. It was now 20 minutes into the meeting. He knew he couldn't go in.

He flipped through the address book of his phone. His guardians would be busy with the clubs and other activities their other foster children were involved with. If he called, they would ask why he didn't go. That was the problem with the social worker, too. Thalassa would be rehearsing with Trucy. The Wright Anything Agency was in his phone too, but Machi didn't know Apollo or Mr. Wright well enough to call there.

There was no one else. Machi felt his throat closing. Why here, why now? What about this place was so frightening? Machi didn't trust the world to stay put if he stood, so he crouched there.

The sound of a motorcycle peeling down a distant street lurched Machi headfirst into a memory.

_"You gotta be careful," Daryan says to him. "Put your arms around my waist. Hold on tight."_

Machi stares. Isn't sure it's safe. Makes no motion to get closer. Daryan gets on the bike, takes Machi's hands, puts them around him. "Now all you gotta do is climb on."

He's flat to Daryan's back, smelling leather, hairspray and musky cologne. He holds tight. Feels safe and secure.

The sun is bright. The hills of Borginia are verdant and carry a rich, intoxicating smell of earth. Everything spins by so fast.

"I told you, I wouldn't let you ride if it wasn't safe."

Grateful, Machi sucks him off before their secluded picnic lunch. Those fingers in his hair – that's what he remembers the most. They tug at him insistently, but never force him.

As the motorcycle came closer, Machi could hear the motor well enough to know it wasn't Daryan's bike. Of course not. Daryan was in prison not returning his letters.

One foot on the steps, the other on that hill in Borginia, Machi was overcome with dizziness. He staggered to the garbage can at the top of the steps and lost the contents of his stomach rather thoroughly. Bracing the lip of the trash bin, he noticed he could make out the shape of his lunch this afternoon: a hasty tuna sandwich and two of Thalassa's cakes.

"Are you alright?"

Machi knew the voice without looking. Somehow, that lilt of German accent held a presence he was unable to forget. He was afraid to turn and look. Maybe if he didn't, Klavier Gavin would go away. He would continue to whatever task he parked his motorcycle here to do.

Klavier, on the other hand, didn't seem to recognize Machi. His concern was a kind one for a teenager he'd never met before. He quickly climbed the stairs and looked Machi over.

"I'm fine," Machi said after a moment, never so glad for his sunglasses. They were the last staple from his old life. Though he kept his blond hair the same length as always, he rarely took the time to style into a delicate wing. Rather than traditional Borginian costume, he dressed always in dark and drab things. He never got out of the habit of wearing large sunglasses to hide his face. He pushed them up the bridge of his nose, willing his voice to be steady. "Just felt a little sick. I'm better now."

"You look a bit pale. Why don't you come inside and sit down. I'll get you some water, then you can decide if you need a doctor. We are, after all, at a hospital."

Machi felt too weak to resist. He followed Klavier into the hospital and sank into the chair the older man offered. As his eyes adjusted to the dimmer indoor light, Machi took in as much as he could about the man he'd known first as a musician and coworker, second as the man who nearly had him put away for murder. Klavier looked much the same. He had his same old elegant ways and clothes, though his voice seemed a little deeper, his face a little more care worn. He even wore his hair the same, allowing it to gather in a twisted curl to one side of his face.

Machi was unsure what he was supposed to feel, seeing Klavier again after so many years. Mostly, he felt grateful for the help, for the handkerchief Klavier gave him, for the bottle of water he brought.

"Are you still feeling ill?"

"No, I'm better," Machi whispered.

"Do you have someone to take you home?"

"No, there's no one." Machi stared at the floor. If he squinted, the patterns in the tile reversed themselves. "I should go, there was something I had to do."

Machi stood, glancing around. Which room was the meeting supposed to be in? Breaking into a room of strangers would be awkward, but nothing compared to facing Klavier up so close. He sat next to Machi, one chair away, not touching him. Machi felt invisible threads of tension between them, pricking whenever Klavier shifted his weight.

"The meeting should be taking a recess. Then we can both go when they reconvene."

"How did you know I was…"

"I'm good with guesses. It's good to see you again, Herr Machi."

So Klavier did recognize him.

Machi carefully considered the situation. "Lamiroir told you I was coming, why?"

"I'm the one who told her about the group, actually. She never said you were going to come or not, but once I saw you up close, I recognized you. You've gotten tall."

"Still shorter than most. The doctor says because of my poor nutrition as a child, I'll never get much taller." Machi sat back down. There was a row of seats in the hall. He took the one at the end of the row, furthest from Klavier. He slowly opened his water bottle, took a drink and then spoke. "You attend this group?"

"Sometimes," Klavier said flippantly. He had a way of making terrible things sound casual, with a slight smile and a gesture of a jewelry-covered hand. "Since my brother was sentenced."

Machi didn't probe the story further. "It's been nearly four years," he said after a moment.

"You've grown up a lot."

"So have you."

Klavier laughed. Machi found himself strangely comforted. But he also heard Daryan in his head: _"That fucking prick. I can't stand him. Always shrugging off the worst shit in the world like he's too good to let the world bother him."_

"They're coming out," said Klavier.

A group of men with no uniting features trickled slowly from one of the meeting rooms. There was exhaustion, a heaviness that hung over the group, but also another emotion that Machi couldn't name. One of them, a broad-shouldered man with ashy hair, made his way over to Klavier. "I see you're gracing us with your presence tonight after all," said the man wryly. "I thought I heard that death trap you call transportation pulling up."

"Herr Edgeworth," said Klavier with a smile, standing up. "This is Herr Machi. He took ill before the meeting. Herr Machi, this is my friend, Herr Edgeworth."

"It's nice to meet you, Machi." Edgeworth offered a hand to shake, which Machi took reluctantly. Edgeworth's grip was a strong one, his hands large but his palms soft. Despite his serious features, though, the man did not seem unkind. The word that came to Machi's mind was _reserved_.

"I threw up in the trash can," Machi said suddenly, to Klavier more than to Edgeworth. "Did you tell someone on the staff? I should…"

"I'll tell the janitor." Before Machi could beg him not to leave him with a stranger, Klavier was gone.

"I was pretty nervous when I went to my first meeting, too. I must have set out to come and run away a half-dozen times."

It took Machi a moment to realize Edgeworth was speaking to him. "I almost ran," he admitted. "I'm not really sure what I'm doing here. But there's someone I don't want to disappoint."

"A word of advice, young Machi?"

"Yes sir?"

Something about the way Machi said those words made Edgeworth flinch. For just a moment, Machi saw sadness on his face, similar to the way Thalassa always looked at him.

"Don't do it for anyone but yourself. You won't be ready until you know you want to get better, and you know why."

Machi didn't know what to say, so he stared down at his hands and turned his water bottle around and around.

"I'm going to get some water," Edgeworth excused himself. "I'll save a spot for you and Klavier."

Machi didn't thank him or say goodbye. He said nothing at all when Klavier returned. "How are you feeling, Herr Machi?"

"Better," Machi lied. "Can we go?"

"You don't want to come to the meeting?"

"No. Let's go."

When Klavier just stood there trying to parse him, Machi grabbed his hand in frustration and all but dragged him out the door. Klavier barely had time to say goodbye to Edgeworth before they were down those stairs and onto the sidewalk.

"Herr Machi, are you okay?"

"I couldn't," said Machi lamely. He realized he was gripping Klavier's hand and let go. "The air, I… I'm sorry. If you wanted to stay, I shouldn't have, I wasn't thinking…" The young man who rarely had words to say was suddenly overflowing. Klavier held out a hand to steady him.

"It's okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

Machi looked up into Klavier's face. The way he spoke so gently and kindly was just too much for him. He burst into tears.

Klavier cautiously pulled him into an embrace, petting his back. "You're okay, Herr Machi," he said softly. "You're really very brave. Don't worry so much."

Machi wanted to deny those words, but nothing came out. Nothing at all came out but sobs.

 

In the odd silence after tears, Machi felt as if he'd climbed out of a swimming pool after doing laps for hours. His eyes and throat burned, his muscles ached and he felt tired and fuzzy, yet bizarrely lucid. He was cold, too, shivering, more so when Klavier let go of him.

Klavier squeezed his shoulder. "Let's go sit somewhere. I know a place with great tea and pastries. Herr Edgeworth turned me on to it."

Machi nodded. At some point in his fit of tears his sunglasses had come off. Now he put them back on. He followed a few steps behind Klavier. For the most part, Klavier didn't harass him. He made light comments about the street they were on and the weather, but didn't press when they brokered no response. Soon they were indoors again.

Normally Machi would have been worried about this place with doilies under the teacups, but Klavier sat like he was ordering a beer. Machi pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. It was slightly dim inside and he wanted to see Klavier better.

Tea came with little cupcakes. After a period of profound nibbling, Klavier attempted to bridge the gap in conversation again. "I hope you don't think I'm being too presumptuous, doing all of this." He said it rather suddenly, as if coming to a realization. "You're not uncomfortable, are you?"

"No, I… I don't mind."

"After what happened, I wasn't sure you wanted to see me. Lamiroir keeps me updated,. She told me you were doing well."

"Apparently not well enough," Machi said stiffly. He picked up the wrapping from one of the cupcakes, turning it around in his fingers. "She's always looking me like she's about to cry. And then sometime she cries. She says she's worried – why, if I'm doing so well?"

Machi dropped little scraps of shredded cupcake wrapper from his fingers. They fell like crumbling snowflakes.

"It's difficult, isn't it?"

"What is?" Machi wasn't good at looking at people. He rarely saw faces, avoided the features of others. But at that moment, he genuinely wanted to see Klavier. His face was handsome, and more importantly, open. He hid nothing. His smile reminded Machi of a child's.

"Being loved." The light through the window gilded Klavier's hair, and he spoke so softly and peacefully that Machi felt his throat closing and had to cough out words quickly in order to keep something from happening.

"Lamiroir doesn't love me," he insisted.

"Doesn't she?"

"Lamiroir isn't even Lamiroir, she's Thalassa," Machi said bitterly. This time it was a doily he picked up and shredded with fingertips that moved of their own volition. "Thalassa, who has her own children, and even a father for them, now. Thalassa who has the perfect family who loves her, and a place in this stupid country. Thalassa who _belongs somewhere._"

"Ja, she is very happy with her family now. That is true. But why do you suppose she visits you so often?"

"She's guilty over abandoning me here. Aside from her, who do I have? Daryan's in prison. He won't answer my letters."

There was a touch of something not quite so calm on Klavier's face at the mention of his ex-bandmate, but to his credit, he didn't comment.

Machi continued. "I can't go home. No one speaks Borginian, I have to… try and… speak this stupid cumbersome language--"

"Cumbersome? Your vocabulary is good," Klavier noted.

"I read a lot. Anyway, my point is I have nothing. Lamiroir was all I had, and she stopped caring. Maybe we would have reconciled after the smuggling stuff, but she was too busy."

"You believe this?"

"Why would she love me? I've met Apollo and Trucy, heard all the stories about them and Phoenix. They're all so happy and they laugh and smile and when she's with them, she glows." Machi was attacking another cupcake wrapping, this time wringing it into a small rope. "When she's with me, she cries and looks tired."

"You do realize their life is not perfect. Dissonant chords are what make a resolution so beautiful."

Klavier gaze was lowered, focusing on some private thought. He toyed with the handle of his teacup, his rings glinting in the light of the early evening light. "Lamiroir cries because she is _still_ Lamiroir, and you are her son, too. And she sees you're in pain."

Machi tied the twisted-up cupcake wrapping in knots, then wrapped it around his fingers until it sat in odd, lumpy curls.

"You shouldn't underestimate love. It is what makes this rotten life bearable. Don't take it for granted. It is in more places than you think."

"Love? Do you have a girlfriend? Or someone special?" After all, four years had passed.

"Nein," said Klavier, almost inaudibly.

"Oh… I thought you would by now. You always did so well with women." Daryan often regaled Machi with stories about he and Klavier tomcatted it up. Then again, Daryan told a lot of lies.

"There was one amazing fräulein, for awhile," said Klavier fondly. "But she loved her career more than me. So that was that. I was lucky. I had the likes of Herr Forehead—"

"You still call him that?"

"He hates it, and so I cannot help myself," Klavier grinned. "Fräulein Trucy, Frau Thalassa, Herr Wright and Herr Edgeworth… When I was at my lowest, they gave me the same gift they have given me for years. I began to realize, without even knowing it, that they all loved me."

"You're a good person," said Machi. "Why wouldn't they love you?"

"They love you too," said Klavier.

"They don't even know me."

"They know you're Frau Thalassa's son, and that she loves you. And they love whom she loves."

"Even Herr…" Machi caught himself mimicking Klavier's speech by accident. "…Even Mr. Edgeworth? He doesn't know me. He's just a friend of yours, right?"

"He's also a very intimate friend of Herr Wright's. It's all rather complex, and it took a lot of adjusting on everyone's part, but he is very much part of the family."

"Oh." Machi got the feeling that if it got much more complex, he'd need a chart, preferably with Borginian labels, to understand it all.

Klavier's phone went off. Machi recognized the strains of Bizet's _Habanera_. "Speak of the devil. He doesn't seem the type, but he frets a lot. Probably thinks we've been abducted by brigands. I'll be just a moment, please forgive me."

Klavier took the call. Machi stared at his cell phone charm, which was that glancing, angular G shape that Klavier considered his trademark. Despite the fact he still wore his trademark around his neck (and why, were people prone to forgetting he was _the_ Klavier Gavin, even after the Gavinners were defunct?), he wore it on his phone too. And his phone was that lovely lighter-than-eggplant purple. Machi couldn't help but think that it was almost cute, how Klavier had to be so coordinated. He tried not to listen too intently, not wanting to eavesdrop on a conversation being held in front of his face.

"Ja… that reminds me." Klavier cradled his phone between his cheek and shoulder in an uncharacteristically ungraceful way. Machi almost smiled at him. "Herr Machi, is someone picking you up?"

"No, I was just going to take the bus home."

"Why don't I give you a lift on my bike?"

"No!" Machi practically shouted.

_"Put your arms around my waist, hold on tight,"_ Daryan-in-his-mind whispered in his ear.

Klavier seemed to recognize his mistake and faltered, embarrassed. "Ah, no, I suppose not. Herr Edgeworth?" Despite his position, Klavier had apparently forgotten his friend was on the line. "Ja, ja," Klavier murmured. Machi observed that he nodded even while he spoke on the phone, so wrapped up was he in his conversation. "Let me ask him."

Klavier looked at Machi again. "Herr Edgeworth offered to give you a ride in his car. You should go, it's a very nice car."

Machi stared dumbfounded. "I couldn't…"

"Let people do something nice for you, Machi, I promise Herr Edgeworth doesn't bite. Anyone but Herr Wright. And then he's not very discriminating. Ja, I did just say that to Herr Machi. Because it's true."

It was Klavier's face just then that convinced Machi. Machi had not known Klavier well when he worked with the Gavinners. He was far too withdrawn into his world with Daryan to see anyone else. Yet at that moment he was aware of Klavier, the way he teased his friend over the phone and smiled and laughed without masks.

"If he insists, I will," Machi volunteered hesitantly.

"He said okay," Klavier informed Edgeworth. He quickly said goodbye and hung up the phone. "He'll be by in a few minutes," said Klavier, motioning to the waitress for the bill.

"I have money," Machi started. This place would cost him everything in his wallet, but he didn't want to be a leech.

"Nonsense, Herr Machi. My treat." Klavier's credit card glinted like everything else about him. Machi found him hard to argue with.

"I need to pick up my bike," said Klavier, holding the door for Machi when they went back outside. "But before I go, let me give you my phone number."

"Okay," said Machi slowly, taking out his phone.

"Herr Machi!" Klavier exclaimed.

"What?" Machi startled.

"Your phone, it's cute!"

Machi blushed profusely. He was rather fond of the phone. It was silver with a little wing etched into the back. "Thanks."

"You don't have any charms or anything for it," Klavier noted. "You don't like them?"

"I've never seen one I liked."

"Ja, finding a good one is problematic."

"I can see you searched long and hard for yours." Machi's sarcasm was often hard to detect. Perhaps it was his accent.

Klavier laughed at his joke. A shining red sports car pulled up to the sidewalk, and Machi noted with something between horror and amusement that this was Edgeworth. For some reason, riding in that car seemed like it would be embarrassing, but there was no backing out now.

"Call me or text me," Klavier said, "Won't you please?"

"I will," said Machi.

"Nein, you must promise."

"I promise."

Machi didn't even realize he was smiling until moments later, after he got into Edgeworth car and they drove away. "You seem to be in considerably better spirits," said Edgeworth.

"You're all so nice to me," said Machi. His cheeks were sore from the smile, and he felt a little relieved to speak normally. His face was still a little hot, though.

"It takes getting used to," said Edgeworth amicably. "It took me years."

They spent most of the ride in comfortable silence. Edgeworth was playing Dvořák on his stereo and they conversed mindlessly about _Symphony for the New World_. As they pulled up to the driveway of Machi's house, Edgeworth turned the music off and Machi found himself thinking, _this is it._

The other foot had to drop. Machi braced himself for contact. He could see that Edgeworth was strong. Machi was slender and small for 18; he wouldn't be able to fight him.

Instead of attacking him, Edgeworth reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. He turned it over to scribble something on the back. "This is my personal cell phone number," he explained. "You're going to think me odd, but I know sometimes the thing that matters most is just having a friend you can call at any time, for anything. Thalassa told me you have episodes much like I once did regarding certain childhood trauma. If you need someone to help talk you out of an episode, or one of those episodes brings out something you need to talk about, please call me. No matter how late it is, or how silly you think."

"Why?" It was the only thing Machi could think of to say.

"Because I've been there. You are very young to be shouldering this, and it's brave that you're facing your past at all. Please take it."

Confused, Machi did, then bade him some sort of farewell. When he came in his foster mother Joella asked if it went well.

"I'm not sure," Machi admitted. "But I have two new contacts in my address book."

 

The next morning was rainy and gloomy, the complete opposite of the day before. After putting the breakfast dishes away, Machi wondered what he should do to occupy himself on one of his last days of summer vacation. He sat on the end of his bed staring at the address book in his phone. His thumb hovered over the green button that would initiate a call to Klavier.

In the end, he texted him instead: _You like Borginian food, right? I know a good restaurant, but it's no fun to go on my own. Would you like to get lunch with me?_

Machi hit send and immediately threw the phone under his pillow, unable to contain his giddy energy. He bounced on the bed, wantonly fidgeting. He was so caught up in this inexplicable excitement that he only caught the call on the last ring before it went to voice mail.

"Herr Machi," Klavier said pleasantly. "I'm in court most of the day, but I would love to go for dinner."

"I would love you," said Machi. "Er, sorry, my English is so bad sometimes. I'd love you to come."

"Then it's a date!"

"A date?"

"Not literally. Just an English expression."

"Oh… right."

"I'll pick you up around five, alright? My car is even nicer than Herr Edgeworth's."

Despite it not being a date, Machi spent the entire afternoon agonizing over what to wear. In the end, he picked the sort of thing he always did – dark jeans, dark gray turtleneck, and a Tori Amos T-shirt. He was a little bit proud of himself for doing something so normal, even if it was under such bizarre circumstances. It felt sort of good. For once, he was looking forward to the future, and spending more time with Klavier.

The Borginian café down the street became a tradition for them every week. Klavier always found time out of his busy prosecuting schedule to take Machi out. They kept conversation safe, complaining about this or that popular musician or debating the finer points of their favorite classical composer. Klavier liked Wagner, while Machi preferred Puccini. Neither seemed surprised by the other's choice.

"Wagner is so bombastic. So _German_. You favoring him is not surprising." Machi was a little relaxed, stirring his spicy tea with the handle of his spoon. After four of these not-dates, he was casual enough to stir his tea instead of tearing the napkins into strips. When he looked up, he saw that Klavier was looking at him intensely. Shifting his weight to sit on his hands, Machi met his gaze. "What?"

"Herr Machi, you'll forgive me if I ask you a question?"

"What sort of question?" Machi never promised to do anything without knowing the terms first.

"Have you played since the trial?"

Machi thought eventually he would have to answer for his part in Daryan's smuggling. He thought he was prepared for any questions Klavier might present him. He was not. He stared. "No."

"You still love music, don't you? Why haven't you?"

"Joella and Warren don't have a piano," Machi mumbled. He closed, retreating like flower into bud at sunset.

"I could send you a keyboard."

"No, you've been too kind already."

"Just a thought." Klavier gave a cavalier gesture. "If I went back into music again, I know this great pianist…"

"Everyone's moved on," Machi murmured in. "I played for Lamiroir. And I'm no longer… good enough."

Klavier nodded, once. He made a thin line with his mouth. Machi wanted to know what he was thinking but didn't ask. "Frau Thalassa said you no longer played, but I didn't believe her."

"Am I often the topic of your conversation?" Machi huffed.

"I wanted to know, but I did not want to come see you. I did not think I would be welcome."

"I never hated you." Machi felt his face get hot. He stared into his teacup. "You just do job. Ah. You were just doing…" Machi crumpled forward as English utterly failed him. Suddenly, he was too emotional run the process it usually took for him to switch between English and Borginian. Remembering that Klavier spoke his language, though not well, he vainly tried to express it. He grabbed Klavier's hand and his gaze. "_You saved me. You and Apollo. The darkness… Daryan was ready to swallow me._"

Machi wondered how he must look to Klavier. He no longer dressed like some little prince for the spotlight, but beneath his dark clothes he was still a broken child, wasn't he? Pathetic. "I am… so stupid!" He hadn't realized they were gathering, but tears ran down Machi's face.

Klavier squeezed the hand that Machi still held like a lifeline. "You're too hard on yourself."

He silently beckoned the waitress for the check.

Machi didn't feel like going home after dinner, so they walked around the block. The playground of the local school was deserted after dark, so it seemed like a good place to detour. Machi dug his toes into each step he took on the little winding path, hugging himself closely. Klavier was near, but not touching. Machi could smell him on the wind: his cologne and shampoo, the hint of leather driving gloves.

"I'm sorry. It seems I always end up crying, with you."

"You should cry with someone. It's an honor that it's me."

"Don't say lies."

Machi drifted toward one of the large play structures. He touched each feature of the toy reverently, as if he were in a museum. He touched the steering wheel where his foster brothers and sisters liked to play pirates but didn't spin it. He climbed to the top of one of the slides, perching, but didn't slide down. He watched Klavier wander beneath him with his hands in his pockets. The space between them wasn't far. Machi liked being the taller one for once.

"I'm not lying to you, you know," said Klavier. "I don't lie to other people."

"To yourself, though?"

Klavier laughed. It was his rock star laugh, the one that charmed interviewers. "Who doesn't?"

"Mr. Yoostis? And Daryan…"

Klavier crouched suddenly, staring somewhere Machi couldn't see. The coppery street lamps provided poor light. Klavier's face was in shadow. "Nein. Daryan lied to himself the worst of all. Criminals… they lie the worst of all."

"He's not a criminal!" Machi hated how he whined, how his voice came out just then. Klavier stood, and his expression was so hard. Disappointed, like he was in court.

"Herr Machi, have you forgotten what he did to you?"

Machi tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "You're mad… I'm sorry."

"Not at you." Klavier sighed and looked very tired, rubbing his temples. With admirable precision and balance, he scaled the slide to sit next to Machi.

"I seduced him. Asked him for money."

"You were a child."

"I was not!" Machi yelled. He could hear the buzz of his voice echoing off the concrete and brick of the school's walls. "By the time he came around? I knew how to make men do what I wanted."

"You wanted him to involve you in his smuggling plan? You wanted him to pin you for murder?" Klavier spoke more reasonably than Machi felt he had any right to.

"I wanted him to… I seduced him. I tricked him, he didn't know I couldn't see, I… he never would have, if not for me…" Machi was shrinking, stammering. Now he wished for the hot outburst of tears, but nothing like that came. Just cold and weakness.

Klavier pulled him into a hug. It was a light embrace that made no demands. Stunned into silence, Machi pressed his cheek to his shoulder.

"You ran out of excuses for him. You can't protect someone from the truth. Even if you love him."

So close to him, Machi definitely felt Klavier tense. Felt him swallow.

"The truth is both painful and inescapable, Herr Machi." These words were barer than the ones Klavier usually spoke, and far less comforting.

"Then why is it so important?" Machi spat stubbornly, muffled in Klavier's collar. He already knew at least part of the prosecutor's answer.

"Because lies are worse. Lamiroir, when she had the chance, did she stay in her darkness? You spent much time with her before her surgery. You know that going into light was a painful thing to do. Frightening, but worthwhile."

"It's not the same," Machi insisted.

The dim light of the playground transformed: for a flash, Machi saw Borginia in the summer.

_Daryan embraces him._

"I've kinda warmed up to you," he says in Machi's ear. His hands on his hips slide Machi into his lap. "Look what you've done."

Beneath Machi is that undeniable thing: hard and unspoken like a silent letter lingering on someone's tongue.

"Fuck yes," is the kind of think Daryan says when he's having sex with Machi. And then afterwards, in the blankets: "I'm going to take you away from this place. We'll be happy together, yeah?"

Daryan brings Machi expensive chocolate and books. Daryan gives Machi spending money and ruffles his hair. Daryan says the cocoon is insurance for when the Gavinners break up – just in case his solo career doesn't take off.

What sort of man is Daryan?  
Does Machi love him?  
Does Daryan love Machi?

Machi shuddered. Back in the present, he realized that he'd draped himself over Klavier's lap, and quickly climbed off him. Klavier did not seem upset. Perhaps no time had passed.

"I know it is not the same," said Klavier after a moment. "It's just an easier point to make with someone else's story."

Machi was about to ask a question when their silence was broken by _Walkürenritt_. Startled, he fished his phone from his pocket.

"Wagner is so bombastic, so _German_," said Klavier dryly. He seemed a little cheered up by a tune from the famous Ring Cycle.

"It's Joella," Machi explained, opening his phone to chat quietly with her for a moment. "I'm not far. Yes, I know. I'll be home in ten minutes." After hanging up, he looked to Klavier. "I have to go home now. Curfew." He stood.

"Why don't you just slide down?"

"Oh." It hadn't occurred to Machi. His childhood in the Borginian orphanage had not included any playgrounds.

"I'll give you a push. Sit, sit!"

Blinking, Machi did as he was told. Klavier gave him a firm and steady push. Machi slid down the slide, and laughed at the bump at the bottom. It was a short, surprised noise.

Klavier's handprints burned on his back. Machi stood.

"Now your turn!" he called up to Klavier.

"Ja, ja." Klavier slid down. Brushed off his pants as he stood.

"Thank you for tonight. Thank you for all these nights."

"It has been my pleasure, Herr Machi." Klavier smiled.

"Still," said Machi with a frown, studying Klavier's face. He wasn't sure what he was thinking right at the moment he tilted Klavier's chin and attempted to plant a kiss on him.

It landed just left and below his mouth. Machi hadn't quite accounted for the height difference.

"Herr Machi," stammered Klavier.

Machi would always remember that night as the first time he ever saw Klavier look a little flustered. He was red.

Before Klavier had time to regain his senses, Machi turned heel and ran. He didn't stop until he reached the front steps of his house. Then he bolted inside, slamming the door behind him.

He didn't check to see if Klavier followed. He ran to his room and threw himself on the bed.

"What," he yelled into the pillow, "Am I doing?"


	2. Chapter 2

Klavier never brought up the night of the attempted kiss. Machi didn't give him opportunity to. When Klavier sent a text the next week, Machi simply replied with, _I cannot come. I have to study._

_Oh, what are you studying? School's started for you already? :)_ Klavier texted back.

_Lots of things. I can't next week._

_I understand. What about the week after?_

Machi stared at the phone in his hand. For several moments, he distracted himself by returning to his algebra homework. He couldn't get comfortable on the bed. Finally he sent a message back: _Not then either._

Machi's phone went off, playing _Quando m'en vo_. Klavier's ringtone, a waltz from _La bohème_. Machi squeaked, dropping the phone, scrambling to sit up. After a moment, he regained his senses and answered the phone.

"I thought it might be easier to just have a conversation, ja?"

Machi's palms were sweating. He couldn't say anything. He felt dizzy.

Klavier's tone changed from airily jovial to warm and quiet. "Why can't you see me, Machi, really?"

So he was Machi now. Not Herr Machi. Not Herr Cinnamon Bun Head or whatever nickname Klavier might've claimed for him. Machi. Just Machi.

He still didn't speak.

"Machi… please say something. Are you alright?"

"No."

"What's wrong?" Klavier spoke with such a soft voice. It was almost a whisper.

"I'm sorry. What I did before, I should not have done it." Machi knew his voice was cold, felt the chill right down to his fingers.

"What do you mean?" Klavier's voice registered genuine confusion.

"I kissed you."

"Ja, on the cheek, like you kiss Lamiroir. I know they're uptight about these sort of things in America, but I assure you I don't mind."

Machi thought he might throw up. He realized Klavier was trying to give him an easy exit, but it was too late for that. "I shouldn't have kissed you. I took advantage of our friendship."

"You make it sound as if you did something horrible to me."

"Wasn't it? After everything you've been through… after your brother… How could I be so selfish, throwing myself at you like that?"

"Are you comparing yourself to him? Really?" Machi wasn't sure how to interpret the intensity of Klavier's words. Klavier continued. "I want to be a friend to you, Machi. If you were to do anything I did not wish, believe me, I would tell you immediately. You are not able to hurt me in that way."

"…Ah."

"And you weren't throwing yourself at me. It was a simple kiss."

"Nothing about that was simple."

Klavier sighed. "You may think you want me, Machi, but you're young and confused. If I were to go after you, I'd be taking advantage of you, not the other way around."

"I'm not a child," Machi fumed, suddenly furious, "You wouldn't take advantage of me. I know you wouldn't. I'm quite nearly twenty, Klavier."

"And I'm quite nearly thirty."

Machi almost smiled at the damaged vanity in Klavier's voice. The passage of time apparently left him feeling quite dejected. "You shouldn't worry about it. You've only gotten more attractive as you're older. You're like David Bowie, by the time you're forty even heterosexual men and lesbians will want you."

Klavier's response was a warm chuckle. "You flatter me."

"You deserve it. Klavier…"

"Ja?"

"I think I'm falling for you. Just a little bit. I'll stop if it bothers you." Machi was surprised at how the words spilled out before he could stop them. He sat in flushed and prostrate silence, waiting for some kind of response.

"No you're not, Machi. You're just latching on to me in a precocious way because it's all you know. Like with Daryan."

"How could you…" Machi blurred with sudden tears. "How could you say that?"

"I don't want to hurt you. I know how hard your life has been on you, and it makes sense you would want someone to validate you, like with Daryan."

"What do you know about Daryan?" Machi hissed out. "What did he say to you?" Machi was pierced with pangs of jealousy. Daryan was talking to Klavier?

"Nothing. I haven't spoken to him since his sentencing. There's not an easy way to say this, Machi, but I know about the abuse in your life before Lamiroir took you in."

Machi thought he heard something shatter, far away and in loud his ears at once. "How much?" His voice went high, not his usual emotionless monotone.

"I tried to have the orphanage shut down. We investigated it, but the Borginian government laughed in our faces. Funny that they're so adamant about cocoon smuggling, but child welfare…"

"We?"

"Daryan didn't tell you." The only word to describe Klavier's voice was _heartbroken_.

Machi's throat was closing. "The sightseeing he said you insisted on – you were going to that place? And he never told me? What did you see there?"

For once, Klavier wasn't composed. He spoke slowly. Was he saddened? Horrified? Angry? Machi couldn't tell. "Some of the children were frightened, but many more of them were… inappropriate. The owners of the place thought we were there to buy, you see. We convinced them to take us to private rooms. Daryan and I took samples and photos and related our tale, but the government would do nothing. They said we contradicted their official findings." Klavier gave a sudden, barking laugh. "My guess is they having warning far in advance for the government inspections."

"Or government officials patronize." Machi was distant, hearing his own voice speaking from elsewhere. "On TV, once, I saw a man running for office. I remembered him. I usually don't, but he wanted photos. Dear mother and father objected. He threatened with his government clout. He got to keep his photos." The words 'dear mother and father' were painful irony. The people who ran the orphanage insisted on being called such. They were the only parents many of the children knew.

"We couldn't stop it. We had to settle on taking you away. And Machi… I knew about you two, and I didn't… I thought… I don't know. I told him to stop with you. He seemed so attached to you, and you to him, but I thought if I just asked, he would respect you enough to…"

"Respect me? How vulgar, Klavier. I wanted him to fuck me." His own voice was so sharp it seemed to cut at Machi's tonsils.

Klavier gasped like Machi punched him.

"I was wrong to want it, maybe, but I did. It made sense at the time. Maybe he wasn't respectful of me, because I was a kid and I probably just wanted a friend, not a lover, but Klavier…"

"Ja?" Now Klavier was the one who was distant.

"You're saying I could never care for you because of this? Because of what I did with him, and because I was a whore?"

"You're not, you were never --"

"I think that's disrespectful. You don't think I'm anything but my past? You're disrespectful, just like Daryan. You Americans never know any _fucking_ respect, do you? Even Borginians know the young have dignity! Daryan treats me like his puppet, you treat me like a child, you are hypocrite for saying he has no respect! Which of you is worse, huh? Americans, you're fucking liars! I hate this damned country, nothing ever makes sense!" Machi was practically shouting as he ended his tirade. Reminding himself to breath, he sucked in several short breaths before delivering a killing blow. "I'm done with you, Mr. Klavier Gavin. Until you have respect for me."

"Machi," Klavier said sadly. Machi thought he would apologize. Instead, he was met with a weak attempt at humor. "I'm German, not American, ja?"

Machi hung up on him and threw the phone at the wall. It hit the wall with a satisfying smack. When _Quando m'en vo_ played again, Machi didn't even bother to pick up the phone. He sat on his bed with his knees drawn to his chest, watching his phone light up and then go dead.

He wanted very badly to cry, but could not. He stared at the phone all night, then tucked himself in bed. Machi slept with the lights on, his algebra homework unfinished.

The nightmares came in the early hours. Variants on the ones he always had, but frightening nonetheless.

_Machi sinks slowly into a pit of black-gray mud. The only sound anywhere is a thick sort of bubbling. The muck is neither warm nor cold. Instead of heat, he feels slithering across his limbs, sticky phantom tongues rubbing at him in ways that gave him no gratification. Soon it's having sex with him, but Machi feels nothing at all in his body. As he descends, the mud closes over his head. Blankly, he thinks he is going to die. That's a relief._

When he opens his eyes, he's sitting in the back of the tour bus, watching the American scenery go by. He is seated next to Daryan, just barely leaning against his arm. Daryan checks to see if Klavier or anyone is watching then slips an arm around him. "You have a bad dream?" Daryan murmurs into Machi's hair.

It's just them in the backseat in the desert. The bus is gone. Everyone is gone.

"Hold me," Machi begs. The words are thick in his mouth, his tongue has trouble moving, but he says it as clearly as possible.

Daryan wraps his strong hands around his throat and chokes him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," Machi whispers with a voice slowly fading.

Facedown in the desert, Machi is suddenly alone. Then the black demons crawl out of the shadows of cacti. They hold him down and rape him, and the worst is the silence, nothing but silence and darkness and Machi knows they will never stop, not for anything. And he knows what they're doing is hurting him, but he feels nothing at all. He wishes he could cry.

Machi opened his eyes. He turned onto his side, glancing at the clock. 5:30AM. He couldn't go back to sleep like this, so he climbed out of bed, stumbling for his phone. Wanted to look over his text messages.

Klavier hadn't sent him anything new. Machi read and re-read their conversation, always deciding at the last moment not to call Klavier this instant, despite his instinct. He felt hollow inside. He wanted to apologize to Klavier, even though he spoke the truth. Time seemed to have slowed, and Machi knew he needed to talk to someone. Why was this so familiar to him, flipping through his phonebook, hoping to find a number?

He selected Mr. Edgeworth, not really knowing why. The man had offered. Might as well see if he would make good. Probably not.

Machi squirmed as the phone rang. He counted each ring. One, two, three, four…

"What?"

The voice that answered was very sleepy. It was also very unlike Mr. Edgeworth.

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Machi stammered.

"Miles," said the stranger with a yawn, "It's for you."

"Considering it is my phone, I am unsurprised." Edgeworth didn't sound much more awake than his companion (Herr Wright?), but apparently his sense of humor was intact. There was stirring as Edgeworth took the phone. From the noises, Machi guessed Edgeworth was getting out of bed. "Young Machi. It's not yet six a.m., are you alright?"

"I'm sorry if I woke you," Machi whispered. "You said I could call anytime."

"I did, and I meant it." Edgeworth stifled a yawn. "Are you alright?" he repeated.

"I'm not sure," Machi admitted. "I've had a really bad night."

"It happens. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I think, yes, a little."

"Proceed. If you hear me clattering about, I'm making tea, I promise I'm listening."

"Well… it started when I kissed Klavier."

"You'd be surprised many disasters, as well as blessings in disguise, start with a kiss," said Edgeworth sympathetically. "What happened?"

By the time Machi told him everything about the night of the kiss, the fight and the nightmare, it was nearly 7:30. Edgeworth did very little else but listen, but that was what Machi needed. When Machi finally trailed off, Edgeworth spoke.

"People like you, Klavier and I are both blessed and cursed," said Edgeworth. "We have known great tragedy in the world, but this tragedy means we feel the love of others all the more deeply, if we let ourselves. I was very lucky. Phoenix is a supportive and endlessly compassionate person."

Phoenix – Machi was certain he knew that name. He was half-asleep, his throat sore from so much talking, but that name seemed very important.

Surely he wasn't one in the same as—

Machi heard Edgeworth quietly confer with someone on his end. It was a feminine voice, faint but immediately familiar. "By Phoenix, do you mean Trucy and Apollo's father?"

Semi-conscious as he was, Machi couldn't make a connection that made any sense at all to him. "Phoenix is sleeping with you? Phoenix is Herr Wright? But he and Lamiroir--"

"Is that Machi on the phone? So early in the morning?" This time the woman's voice was quite distinct, and Machi was still having trouble computing this information at all.

"Why don't you say hello?" Edgeworth handed the phone over to someone.

"Lamiroir?" Dumbfounded didn't begin to describe Machi's expression.

"Machi, I didn't know you were so close to Miles. I would have told you about us."

"But he said he's with Phoenix… and I thought you and he… you're a family, right?" Machi was reeling. What on earth did this mean? How did he not put it together before?

"As far as families go, we're a bit unconventional." Edgeworth made some comment to that Machi couldn't really hear. Whatever he said made Lamiroir chuckle.

Swallowing his jealousy, Machi asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You always seemed so hurt when I talked about Trucy and Apollo, so I figured you didn't really want to know."

"Lamiroir, I mean Thalassa, of course I want to know. They're your family and you love them." Machi lapsed into Borginian. He was exhausted. "You're Klavier's family too, aren't you? I want to know you all."

"Klavier, somehow I knew it came back to him." Machi knew Thalassa's voice well enough to hear that she was a bit pleased with something. Her emotions were transparent to them when they spoke in his native tongue. "You know, every time I speak with him, he just can't stop talking about your little dates."

"Dates? But he said I couldn't care for him."

"You haven't learned this about English yet, my darling Machi, but sometimes when people say 'you,' they mean 'I.'"

Machi puzzled over this. He yawned loudly, staring at the clock. "I need to get ready for school."

"You've been up all night, haven't you? I'm going to call Joella and tell her to keep you home today."

"No, mama, don't, I'm well enough to go," Machi was half-asleep, not aware of his own slip. His speech was so much more free and casual when he used Borginian.

"Go to sleep. It will be better after you sleep on it, I promise. Do you need me to sing you to sleep?"

"I'd like it. I don't want to dream of silence."

There was a clamoring in the background. Machi was sure he heard Apollo Justice of all people shouting, "Put some clothes on, decent people sleep in this house!" Lamiroir murmured an apology to Machi while she found somewhere quiet. She sang him his favorite lullaby. It was the song he played the night they first met, a literal lifetime ago.

 

Machi slept well into the day. After polishing off a tuna sandwich with a side of daytime TV he found that he was rather bored. Of course, he ought to finish his algebra homework, but instead he drifted over to the family computer.

Machi wasn't fond of the internet. This was fortunate considering he had to share the computer with Joella, Warren and their other take-in children. He decided it was fair enough for him to do a little surfing while he had the house to himself. He checked his e-mail and his website. People still commented now and then, asking how he was and if he'd ever take up piano again. Often they offered words of support. It distressed Machi a little because his fans, especially the Borginians, hated Daryan so. _I know you didn't do it,_ they would write. _That man is the devil._

Machi hated them for that. They didn't hate Daryan for manipulating him or destroying his life. They hated Daryan for taking their pianist away.

Clicking around idly, he found one of the commenters had a Gavinners web page. The site proudly boasted of their rare magazine scans and of having a gallery of hundreds of images for each artist. Machi avoided pictures of himself and he couldn't look at Daryan without feeling squeezed in a vice. So the only real choice was to click Klavier's gallery, wasn't it?

These really were rare photos. Machi pored over grainy snapshots of the Gavinners before they hit it big. Klavier stood in front, shirtless. He had a dirty, fearless grin that Machi had only known shadows of. The crowd was touching him, groping him, threatening to pull him in, and Klavier was getting off on it.

Utterly engrossed, Machi clicked through the rest of the pictures from that show. He didn't realize his hand had drifted to his pants until he heard Joella's car in the drive. Machi quickly closed the browser and turned off the monitor, scrambling upstairs and throwing himself on the bed.

The feeling of friction and his own weight against his rapidly hardening dick made Machi hiss out. Fighting his deep urge to hump the mattress, Machi grabbed his math book. By the time Joella ascended the stairs and knocked on the door, he was in the perfect semblance of a studying teen.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you."

Their conversations were rarely long ones. Joella and Warren were picked to care for Machi because they both did mission work in Borginia. Joella was half Borginian herself and spoke the language rather well. Despite this, she insisted on nothing but English in the household, which created a lot of tension between them.

"I'm studying for a test, so please don't disturb me. I'm going to put on some music."

"Don't play it too loud," Joella said. "I'll call you for dinner, okay?"

"Okay."

Machi hadn't listened to his Gavinners CDs since coming to the States. Even before Daryan's betrayal, the emotions it brought it in him were just too intense. Every solo the man played was pure cruelty. Still, he kept them close like good luck charms. Rooting through his considerable collection, he found the CD with "Guilty Love" on it and threw it in his little boom box. He turned it up as loud as he knew he could get away with without others complaining.

This time, he wasn't listening to Daryan's cruel solos. He was listening to Klavier's voice, the way he purred and his German accent gave everything a velvet sheen. Machi slipped his hands past the elastic of his pajama pants, lying back on the bed. His curtains will still drawn, but he could see a little slice of sky. He worked his hand over his erection roughly, thinking of Klavier's shirtless, muscled body. Distantly, past the music, he could hear his foster family returning from their various places, saying hello to one another. He heard the distant noise of a motorcycle.

He quickly constructed a fantasy, something to help him along.

_Machi runs into Klavier a parking garage. Or rather, Machi is caught by Klavier as he's trying to steal that handsome motorcycle._

"Just what were you trying to do, Herr Machi?"

"I'm so sorry. It was so beautiful, I wanted to ride it."

Klavier pulls Machi roughly off the bike. Without warning, Machi's pushed against the wall. Klavier is so near, with that good smell of his, the expensive cologne and leather and ohh… he's touching him. Giving that little chuckle of his when the truth's finally revealed. "You like it, ja? You like this?"

Machi stared at the branches of the tree outside the window without seeing them at all. He was panting and sweating. Usually he could look at a little porn and get off in a matter of moments, but this? This was more difficult, somehow.

The motorcycle was coming closer. Maybe a cyclist was visiting someone in the neighborhood.

Machi knew he couldn't afford to dally. Any moment someone in the house could bother him with some nonsense. He didn't have enough time for lube or haphazard finger fucking; he just needed this done, over.

Time for another approach.

_Klavier forces him to his knees. Unzips his pants. Slaps Machi's cheek a little with his veiny, hard cock. Machi submits, opens his lips. Klavier chokes him._

Machi came. It felt like it took too long, just those moments of harsh breathing, stroking, squirting and hushed pleasure. What a mess, why didn't he grab the tissues?

Machi laid on the bed, staring at the leaves on the trees outside his window. The leaves were turning. He was too exhausted to even let go of his limp cock. As he forced himself to sit up and clean, he felt that familiar nausea tie up the pit of his stomach. How could he do that to Klavier? Klavier would never debase himself. He wasn't dirty like Machi.

Machi was jerked from his symphony of self-loathing by the sound of Joella calling up the stairs. Glancing at the clock, Machi thought it was a bit early for dinner to be ready.

"Machi! Klavier's here!"

Joella was familiar with Machi's friend, after all.

"I—what, no!"

He was wondering where that motorcycle was going.

Machi was a wreck. Not only had he not showered today or changed out of his pajamas, he was now sweaty and sticky with the aftermath of his awful fantasies. Cursing lightly, Machi climbed into a pair of jeans and threw on his only clean T-shirt (Queen). He went to the bathroom to wash his hands thoroughly, splash water on his face and run a comb through his hair.

By the time Machi got downstairs, Klavier was seated in the living room, chatting with Joella. He stood when Machi entered the room. "Fräu Thalassa said you weren't feeling well today," said Klavier. "I brought you a little present, I thought it might make you smile."

When Machi did little else but just stare, dumbfounded, Klavier stood and pressed a small box into his hand. Machi opened it carefully.

Resting on a little bit of gauze was a silver cell phone charm in the jagged shape of a G. Machi recognized it immediately as the Gavinners symbol. Without even thinking, he threw his arms around the taller man. Machi was sure he meant to say some kind of word of thanks, or express the perfection of the gift, but he was too intoxicated by the smell of Klavier's hair to say anything.

"Can you forgive me?" Klavier murmured in his ear. "I'm afraid I couldn't stand the idea of you having no more to do with me."

"Only if you forgive me," Machi said.

"You've done nothing wrong."

"Nothing that you know of yet."

Joella coughed to make herself known. "Machi, I wish you would have told me your friend was coming over. Will you be staying for dinner, Klavier?"

"Don't be angry, Fräu Joella. I'm afraid I dropped in on Machi." Klavier fitted Joella with a charming grin. The middle-aged woman didn't so much as bat an eyelash.

"I thought that might be it, considering how he usually fusses before you come over."

"Joella!" Machi protested.

"Your friend can stay as long as you promise you won't neglect your studying." Joella was fond of rules and caveats. Klavier once told Machi she would make a good prosecutor or judge. "And you'll have to obey the two-inch rule."

"The two-inch rule?" Klavier looked to Machi in curiosity.

"You must be joking." Machi leveled his foster mother with a withering look.

"Nope. It's my rule with Sarah and her boyfriend. I have to enforce it to everyone."

Machi looked to Klavier, expecting him to protest her assumption of their relationship, but he just looked amused. "I assure you, Fräu Joella, I will not do anything the Good Lord would not approve of under your roof."

Joella shook her head. "I don't think the Good Lord would approve of a man in that much purple, or that ridiculous hair. The two-inch rule stays. Now you two run along, and I'll call you for dinner."

Machi's face went hot with shame, but Klavier laughed and it seemed everything was okay. Machi darted up the stairs, Klavier behind him. "Give me a moment to tidy up," he begged Klavier. All but slamming the door in his face, Machi hurried to make the bed and straighten his room. Thankfully, there wasn't much. From orphanage to traveling musician, Machi never accrued many belongings aside from a binder of CDs that weighed nearly as much as he did. "Sorry about that," he apologized when he let Klavier into the room. "I wasn't expecting anyone. I never have visitors."

Klavier stepped inside, assessing the room. It was small, but there were touches of Machi here and there. Blue curtains and bedspread, a bulletin board with a postcard of a bird and some photos. Klavier glanced over the familiar face of Thalassa and smiled, but gave pause to a picture of him and Daryan. He frowned. Machi's heart sank.

Klavier recognized the strains of "Guitar's Serenade" as it played softly on Machi's boom box, and smiled again. "You don't have any pictures of yourself," he said.

Machi thought he would say something about him listening to Gavinners. "Why would I? I see myself in the mirror every day."

"No photos of you with Fräu Thalassa."

"I don't like myself in pictures. That's why I always wear sunglasses."

Klavier gave no indication of settling down, so Machi joined him in examining the photos. As he suspected, it was the picture of him and Daryan that had him so transfixed. "How do you do it?"

"How do I do what, Machi?"

They stood next to each other. Their arms touched, but not their hands.

"You look good in pictures. And smile so much. You've seen such sadness."

"Everyone's seen sadness, ja?"

"You more than others."

"Couldn't I say the same to you?"

Machi looked over, expecting to see the handsome and carefree expression Klavier always wore. Instead, his face had no emotion at all. He seemed to gaze at some point beyond the photograph. Machi recognized the face of someone carried off by the past, and took Klavier's hand. He squeezed it.

"We both have our quirks," said Machi after a moment. "Sit down, make yourself comfortable." He hesitated then let go of Klavier's hand before sitting on the bed.

Klavier sat down on the floor, back resting on the foot of the bed. Machi was next to him. His leg touched Klavier's shoulder. He wanted to touch his hair, made golden by the evening sun through the window.

"Why do you keep your hair so long? I could understand it when you were in the Gavinners, but why now?" Machi asked after a moment. He dared to act on his impulse, lightly threading fingers through Klavier's long blond hair. He was fascinated by how it all seemed to gather in one long, springy curl at the end. Klavier leaned back.

"A memory or something. I don't even know anymore." Sounding weary, he changed the subject. "I heard from Daryan recently."

Machi froze, his fingers still in Klavier's hair. Klavier tilted his head, freeing his hair, and took Machi's hand. He held it. Machi squeezed back like a vice.

"It was about his sentencing. You mentioned he never writes you, but he said he always reads your letters. I think you should go see him, clear the air. Before…"

"Before?"

"Some men experience regrets as they face their death, and wish to put things to rest." Klavier was quiet. "Some men."

Oh. Machi's blood was suddenly ice water. "I couldn't," he whispered.

"Even if I went with you?"

"You would do that?"

"It's the least I could do, considering it's my fault you got involved in all this."

Machi slipped to his knees on the floor next to Klavier. He pressed his lips to his cheek. "It wasn't your fault," he murmured against his skin. "I got to meet you, and Lamiroir got to meet her family. Good things and bad things, you can't do one and not the other."

"That's what my therapist says," Klavier agreed with a chuckle.

"Boys! It's time for dinner!" Joella called up the stairs. "Hope you like macaroni!"

Klavier stood, pulling Machi with him. He wrapped an arm around Machi's waist for a just a moment before Machi broke away to get the door. They sat next to each other at dinner, and every now and again Machi's fingers would seek Klavier's beneath the table. They held hands in secret while Machi picked at his food and Klavier charmed his foster family with stories of his law career.


	3. Chapter 3

Weeks passed. Aside from their weekly dinners, Machi and Klavier took to spending Sundays together. Klavier made it his personal obligation to show Machi the sights he'd missed despite his years in the city. Walking along the pier or waiting in line at Samurai Adventure Land, Machi's hand would stray to Klavier's like it did under the table that night. Soon it became so comfortable for them they didn't even notice they were doing it.

They knew their mistake when they went to visit Daryan. The prison was an intimidating place, home to a million uncomfortable memories. Machi's hand sought out Klavier's. Klavier squeezed it as they entered the visitation area and approached Daryan.

His blue eyes fixed them with a withering look and Machi let go.

"So is that how it is? You write me and say that you love me, but you're with him? Does he get you all the money you need?"

"Achtung! You will not speak to Machi that way." Machi hadn't seen Klavier this angry, well, since the last time Daryan said something that rubbed him the wrong way.

Machi raised a hand to silence Klavier. He looked to Daryan. "We need to talk."

"Not with him here." Daryan crossed his arms.

"Klavier, will you leave please?" Machi pushed his sunglasses up into his hair to look at Klavier. "I'll be okay."

"If you insist," said Klavier sourly. Machi recognized that tone of voice as the one that usually precluded what Daryan would call a 'bitch fit.' Daryan seemed to bring out that side of him easily. "I need to visit someone in solitary, anyway."

"I'll see you soon." Machi knew whom Klavier was going to see. He knew that out of the two of them, Machi was better off.

"Ja."

Klavier exited. Machi sat at the table in front of Daryan. "Orange is not your color," he said after a moment.

Daryan looked different. That was to be expected. His wonderful hair was cropped short, grown into mouse brown after the dyed black. His razor sharp features were even more severe with lines of stress. Machi still saw a beautiful man, but his bitterness was much more visible than it was those nights they spent in the Borginian summer. There was a heavy ache in Machi's chest, an emotion he didn't know the word for in English.

"Ain't exactly royal purple," Daryan snorted. "Why did you come, Machi? Are you here to give me the 'let's just be friends' speech? Because I hate to disappoint you, but I've already moved on. I've got a hot new boyfriend named Matt and everything."

Machi thought he looked a little uncomfortable saying that name, but overlooked it. "That's not why," he said carefully. Machi was always so careful around Daryan. Hated disappointing him, hated his outbursts and raucous laughter.

"Then why?" Daryan pierced him with his gaze. Machi folded his hands in his lap and stared at them.

"I don't know why. I just needed to see you. They're going to put you to death someday--"

"Because of you. You'd rather I get the needle than do something good for me, after all I did for you."

"I tried to cover you. I would've taken the death penalty for you, can you imagine?"

"They wouldn't have given the death penalty to a fourteen-year-old. Besides, Klavier wouldn't have let it happen. He's always had a thing for you. You know he tried to stick me with statutory rape charges in addition to murder? That Lamiroir bitch was behind it, too."

"It didn't happen because I begged her not to testify. And I would not." The whole time was one of numbness, of social workers and juvenile detention centers. Machi didn't remember it well, nor did he want to. "In his own way, he was looking out for me. But I don't think you raped me."

"That's what I keep trying to tell everyone! You seduced me. Just like you seduced Klavier."

"I haven't seduced Klavier. We're not like that."

"Yeah, because you totally hold hands like queers prancing off for their honeymoon because you're just _bestest friends_. Whatever."

"We're not here to talk about Klavier," Machi broke in. "About you and me, actually. I've thought about it. You knew what I was, and you never told me you knew. That hurts."

"What do you mean? That some sick fucks had you in their pimp and porn business? I thought you knew we investigated that."

Machi fixed him with his most withering look, bad enough that it burned through the lenses of his sunglasses. "Don't play dumb. No one told me."

"Shit, Machi, I… sorry, I guess I just thought it would be better not to bring it up."

Machi forced himself to meet Daryan's gaze. He hated that Daryan really seemed sorry. This man murdered someone with a revolver. Why? For money? For himself? For Machi? He would probably never understand. He was too afraid to ask. He didn't know what was worse, the thought that Daryan's love led to murder, or the fact that it might not have. "When my mother died, I inherited nothing but an old piano and a pile of debts. The piano didn't even make a dent in it. I had no choice; at least, that's what they told me. I was ten years old and I had no one in the world. So I was forced to sleep with men."

Machi was outside himself listening. Daryan was pale and obviously didn't want to hear this, kept trying to speak and failing. "The only time anyone paid attention to me, the only time anyone treated me like something besides human garbage, was when there was sex. I liked you. You paid attention to me. So I became confused… you're a detective, aren't you? You've studied psychology. Aren't you aware of these sorts of things? I didn't know any better. But you did. Didn't you?"

"You were fucking beautiful. I knew it was wrong, but you made me want it anyway. You're even pulling Klav in now, aren't you?"

Machi's gaze fell back to his hands.

"Don't make me feel bad for treating you like a whore. You act like one, you get treated like one, Machi."

Machi jumped to his feet. "You are a bitch son, Daryan Crescend! You are a fucking bitch son!"

Daryan pointed at him and laughed. "Been here this long and you still can't speak English? Go back to Borginia. Oh wait, you can't!"

Machi stood lamely as Daryan had a long laugh at his expense, echoing through the visitor's room, wringing his hands together. He felt every muscle in his body tense as he recalled the night Daryan convinced him to help smuggle the cocoon.

_They've just finished fucking. Machi's ass aches, but that's fine with him. Seeing Daryan go all satisfied like a purring tiger makes up for it. Pleased with his handiwork, Machi goes back to reading his book while Daryan's still talking._

"Just trust me. I've got a buyer already set. All you have to do is find it for me and help me hide it."

"I don't know. Security is pretty tight. And if we're caught, we'll be in big trouble."

"Trust me," Daryan says, putting his body over Machi's and kissing him fiercely. His hands are in Machi's hair. "Would I steer you wrong? If anything happens, I'll protect you."

Machi's tiny fist connected with Daryan's cheek before security noticed. It was a small blow from a slight person, but it was enough for security to bodily remove him. As a guard led him away, Machi saw Daryan rubbing his cheek. Sadness didn't seem right on the older man's face, maybe because Machi had never seen it there before.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Machi called to him. "I did love you."

"Go to hell," Daryan shot back at him halfheartedly. "Go to hell and take that self-obsessed diva with you."

Machi waited outside, sitting on the bumper of Klavier's BMW. He could see Klavier coming a mile away. Knew before he saw his face the man had been crying. There was something broken in the way he walked. Normally Klavier never slouched.

"Time to go." Klavier opened the car door for him. Machi climbed in. Klavier started up the car and they drove for a while. There were murmurs about lunch and they decided to go to Edgeworth's tearoom. Of course that wasn't the name of the place, but that's how they thought of it. The place they went the day they reunited. Aside from that, their drive was silent. Machi watched the scenery go by. The trees were nearly barren. The sky was a stern gun metal gray, threatening rain. He looked at anyone but Klavier, who still sniffled. He felt somehow that looking at him or saying anything would be invading his privacy.

Lunch was a bust. Neither of them had any appetite. They could barely speak. The cookies and sandwiches they normally relished were bland and tasteless. They paid with their food less than halfway gone, and Klavier didn't even take issue with Machi paying the bill.

Machi finally looked at Klavier when they got back to the car. Klavier was buckling his seatbelt. The tear streaks were still obvious on his face. Sympathetic, Machi reached over to wipe the stain away. The motion became more like cupping his chin, became more like Machi leaning over and kissing him full on the lips. After a moment Machi pulled away, startled.

"I'm sorry."

Klavier traced a line on Machi's cheek and slowly pulled Machi's sunglasses off. In a much more sudden movement, he took Machi by the ears and kissed him fiercely. His lips were salty and sweet from the traces of tears. When he lapped at Machi's lips, Machi granted access. Their wasn't much space in the car, but even when they shifted for more comfort they didn't want to break lips or untangle tongues. Machi had his arms around Klavier's neck. Klavier had his hands in Machi's hair. Machi, attempting to climb into Klavier's lap, bumped the horn several times. Klavier laughed, lifting his hands off Machi so he'd have more freedom to climb back into his seat. Machi's glowed red with embarrassment.

"Let's go to my place." Machi was never so happy to see that easy, confident smile as right then.

"Yes," said Machi, still trying to catch his breath. "Let's."

 

Though the Gavinners broke up four years ago, everything about Klavier's apartment still screamed rock star. Machi found it hard to imagine his mild-tempered sort-of boyfriend living his daily life in this place. The bold purple and black and strong modern lines of the place verged on headache inducing. The lighting was very flattering, though. He wondered how many scandalous parties Klavier threw here.

He looked over the penthouse for the few moments it took to take off his shoes. Contrary to his once bad boy image, Klavier was rather particular about the pale, plush carpeting. The thought of him ordering the likes of Daryan and the other Gavinners to take off their boots every time they came in made Machi smile a little.

Before he could complete that thought, Klavier finished hanging up their coats and kissed him again. They tangled. Machi tried to lead them to the couch. As he very nearly tripped over a coffee table, Klavier caught him. One hand was on his waist; the other catching the hand Machi threw out for balance. He spun Machi around. For a moment, as Machi looked up at him, they were dancing.

"Be careful."

Machi almost said it then, the dreaded words. Instead he kissed Klavier again, biting gently on his lower lip and sucking.

Klavier gave the most delightful little growl, rumbling in his stomach and vibrating against Machi's skin. He pulled Machi close again just as Machi pushed forward. Their mouths met with hunger.

Machi let Klavier lead them to the couch. Climbed into his lap still kissing, tongue insistent, thrusting in. Klavier pulled away just to let them breathe a moment. They bumped foreheads, panting. Machi found himself thinking about how vividly blue Klavier's eyes were. They were keen and deep like the ocean. Machi drank them, so grateful for his gaze.

Klavier kissed him once, twice, three times, slowly. Machi moved his hips unconsciously, brought them down against him.

"Oh, sorry!" He wasn't sure why he apologized just then, why he got so red. So Klavier had an erection. That made two of them. Machi climbed off his lap, trying to decide whether the sensation he felt right now was a rushing, heady thrill or a cold sinking feeling.

"It's perfectly fine, Machi. It's a normal thing for men. May I kiss you again? I was quite enjoying it."

"Don't you want me to do something about it?" Machi reached a hand forward. Klavier batted it away.

"Nein. I want to take it slow with you, Machi. I think that's best for us both, don't you?"

Machi tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He forced himself to look up from the sight of Klavier's engorged package. "You don't want to fuck me?"

Klavier shook his head. "Nein," he said reasonably.

"Then why did you bring me here?" The acoustics in this place made Machi's voice louder and more startling than it already was. Klavier lifted a hand, combing it through Machi's hair. Machi backed away. "Daryan was right, I'm seducing you. Against your will, even. I won't let it happen to you too! I'm so sorry, Klavier, it's just that I like you so much. It's like you said, I'm latching on because I don't know any better…"

"Shh." Klavier tilted Machi's chin up with two fingers, and placed a feather-light kiss to Machi's brow. "I said I will not fuck you, because I want to make love you to you. How are you seducing me? I'm the one who keeps making dates, keeps on finding excuses to see you. This is mutual."

Even as he nodded in agreement, tears slipped down Machi's face. Klavier stood up and walked away, and for several horrible moments Machi cried, feeling the tears cold on his face. He was certain Klavier left in disgust or indifference.

Klavier sat back down next to him on the couch, handing him a box of tissues and setting a wastebasket at his feet. Machi said several colorful curses in Borginian. "Why am I always crying with you?" he complained to Klavier in English. "Every other moment every day, every other time in my life, I can't cry. Even when I want to."

"Sometimes it takes another person to help you discover your heart. At least that is what Herr Edgeworth always says."

Machi blew his nose delicately. He crumpled up the tissue in his fist then held it over the wastebasket, unclenching each finger until the lumpy ball dropped in. "In his case, two people, right?"

"Herr Wright is the one Herr Edgeworth is fondest of," said Klavier, "And I believe that Frau Thalassa is fondest of him as well, though she and Herr Edgeworth have deep affection for one another. I am unclear on the specifics and prefer it that way. Though perhaps a little jealous of them."

"Because you were always so keen on Lamiroir? Or is it because you think Mr. Edgeworth is handsome?" Machi tilted his head. It was an obvious fact that Edgeworth was good looking, yet not one that occurred to him very often. He only saw Edgeworth as a good friend, a companion on he and Klavier's symphony trips and a confidante in the wee hours of the morning.

"I don't like older partners. It's more that I'm jealous of their love. Of course I'm part of the family, and all of them, as well as Fräulein Trucy, Herr Forehead and Fräulein Vera… they love me too. But if I could find just one person to love me as Herr Edgeworth and Herr Wright love each other, I think maybe the world wouldn't seem so heavy."

Machi almost said it again, those stupidly important words. Klavier played with his own hair and laughed self-effacingly. "Would you like to stay tonight? Just to spend the time? I'm afraid it's gotten rather late."

Machi shifted his weight uncomfortably. The thought of spending the night with Klavier was appealing. His erection was screaming at him to do something. He wondered how Klavier could stay so calm. Maybe it was something to do with being older. "I think I could stay, but I need to make a call."

Machi took out his phone. The little silver G of his phone charm caught the light and made Klavier grin. Machi caught the look as the phone was ringing and smiled back at him.

"Hello?" A surprisingly masculine voice answered.

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Machi was so startled he nearly dropped the phone. "We were just talking about you! Can I speak to Lamiroir, please?" After all, it was her phone Machi called. Machi wondered if it was a habit in their household to just pick up whoever's phone was nearby when it rang.

"Good things I hope. How is Klavier?"

"He's fine. How did you know he's with me?"

"Intuition. Thalassa? It's your son."

Rustling, and Thalassa answered the phone in Borginian. "Good evening, Machi."

"How did you know it was me?"

Thalassa chuckled warmly. "Intuition. What do you need, dear one?"

"Well, I don't know if you would, but I want to stay the night at Klavier's, and I really don't want to get a third degree from Joella. I'd understand if you think it's wrong, but would you please cover for me and tell her I'm staying with you?"

"Machi, I won't lie for you. You need to be honest with her, after all, you're an adult." All humor was sapped from Thalassa's voice. The words held so much more weight for Machi in Borginian. "Besides, if it becomes a regular thing, don't you think she will suspect you? She already knows you two are dating."

"We're not…"

"Tell the truth, Machi."

Machi glanced over to Klavier. His blond sort-of-maybe-really boyfriend had risen and started to dust one of the many guitars he had on display. Slightly bent in concentration, the curve of his finely-shaped ass was clearly visible. Machi reddened. "Okay, mama." This time it slipped out even though he wasn't half-asleep. When they were working together Machi was so careful to say Lamiroir, but now that Lamiroir was Thalassa he couldn't seem to adjust. Maybe 'mama' was suitable alternative. "I'll talk to her."

"Be sure and use protection."

"When I talk to Joella?" Machi blinked.

"With Klavier."

"Oh, but we – we're not going to – ohh."

Klavier sauntered over, draping over the back of the couch. He pressed a kiss to Machi's cheek, charmed by the vision of him flustered. Machi just about fainted. "K-Klavier!"

"Tell the truth, Machi," Thalassa repeated. "Oh, and before I forget, tell him that everyone said yes to the Christmas party."

Christmas party? "Okay. I thank you. Have a good night. Tell Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright goodnight, too." Machi shut his phone. "I… I guess I need to call Joella."

Klavier nuzzled Machi's hair. "Am I in the way?"

"No. Lamiroir said that everyone said yes to the Christmas party."

Klavier nodded. Machi thought he must have immediately realized the mistake despite his calm body language. "What party is that?"

"The yearly one I throw. It's sort of a tradition in my family."

"You didn't invite me."

"I wasn't sure you'd want to go. You always hate crowds, remember Steel Samurai World?" Contact was broken then as Klavier stood up to go examine his already-dusted guitar collection. He obviously didn't want to face Machi.

"You didn't invite me," Machi repeated.

"You refused the first two years Thalassa invited you for me, I thought you had no interest. I didn't want to be rejected. Not by you."

"It's different now and you know it. You didn't invite me! Why not? I would come. I want to meet everyone. Mr. Edgeworth will be there, and Thalassa's children, and Mr. Wright… I'm doing so much better. I want to be part of it now. Why wouldn't you want me there?"

Klavier still wasn't facing him. He walked over to the window, leaning his arm against the glass and resting his forehead there. "I wasn't sure where we'd stand by then," he admitted.

"In a month or so? Are you planning to dump me?"

"Nein."

"Then what is it? Are you embarrassed? You don't want your friends knowing you date someone young as I?"

"Nein. Machi, it's only that… there's going to be a certain fräulein there and she doesn't know about us yet. I don't want to hurt her."

"Your ex girlfriend. The one who left you for her work." Machi stood up. "_Tell the truth_," Machi echoed Thalassa's words to Klavier in Borginian for emphasis. "Did you truly break up with her? Was I just a placeholder?"

"We agreed to call it off while she went to Germany, implying we might get back together if we wanted to, in the future. I even told her I'd visit her, but never did. You weren't a placeholder. You were unexpected. I never thought I could like a guy so much. Not one that cared for me in return, at least."

"I am not hearing this. I am not." Machi stomped towards the door. "I can't believe I was about to have sex with you! Daryan was right, you think the world revolves around you."

"Achtung! You still listen to him? Don't you have an opinion of me of your own?" This was a voice Klavier never used on Machi. No, it was that critical voice he typically reserved for Daryan, the one that was so sharp as to be painful.

Machi stood still, facing the door. "I thought I was falling for you, you told me I couldn't. I thought we were a couple; you don't want to invite me to your big event because you worry about what your ex is thinking. Tell me, what should I think of you? What should my opinion be?"

He climbed into his sneakers and crouched to tie them.

"It's bad for prosecutors to just hand out answers like that." Klavier spoke to his back. That lightness he adopted suddenly grated at Machi like nails on a chalkboard.

"This isn't a courtroom, Klavier." Machi tightened that last knot and ran out the door, leaving it swinging open behind him. When he entered the elevator at the end of the hall, he was all too aware that Klavier didn't follow him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Machi timed each self-berating word with the fall of his footsteps. He realized his feet were slowing. Maybe he should go apologize. Running out like that was awfully immature.

It was dark now. Machi scanned the street for the familiar sign marking a bus stop. Did buses even stop in this part of town? He was sure if he caught one downtown and transferred there, he could get home before curfew. Joella wouldn't have to know about this mess at all.

Machi shivered. Like an idiot, he left his jacket at Klavier's. He backed onto the curb, staring up at Klavier's building. He couldn't see Klavier's window at the top, but he could imagine it well enough. Klavier struck such pretty poses. Had he even bothered to close the door yet?

As he stared skywards, the heavens opened up and sent him a message. The message was that he should have remembered his jacket.

It began to rain, hard and cold. In mere seconds every layer of Machi's clothes were drenched. Machi just stood there in a stupor for far too long, feeling the rain drips on his bare skin beneath his shirt and running down his sullen face. His teeth began to chatter. Hugging himself ineffectively, he began to walk down the street, hugging himself. Machi began to wish he'd worn something other than his smartest jeans and polo to face Daryan. He should've worn a scuba outfit instead. After all, it had been threatening to rain since this morning.

Machi felt the umbrella before he saw it. He didn't turn around right away, because he knew who would be there holding it over his head. "You forgot your coat. You'll catch your death out here."

Machi hugged himself. He put on a show of not talking, but it was really just because his teeth were chattering so hard. Machi had a problem gaining weight, naturally thin and small from his childhood of poverty. His circulation left much to be desired. He was cold even in the early fall and spring and never left the house without his wool coat. Klavier offered him the coat now. Machi didn't turn to look at him.

"I'll j-just g-get it w-wet."

"Put it on at least while I take you back. I'll put your clothes in the dryer and drive you home."

"B-but I m-must be home b-before curfew."

"And if you came home in this state, what would Frau Joella think of me?" Klavier put his arms around Machi. They were warm, and Machi didn't resist them. He felt Klavier's hair and his mouth near his neck, that lovely clean smell of his French cologne and fancy shampoo.

"Sh-shouldn't you be m-more worried about wh-what I think?"

"Come inside, Machi."

Before Machi could make his reply, a strong gust of wind came and knocked their umbrella away. Balancing the umbrella between his neck and shoulders to embrace Machi was romantic, but subjecting them both to the downpour was decidedly less so.

Machi turned to look at Klavier and burst out laughing. "You look like a drowning dog."

"I think you mean a drowned rat." Never one to take attacks on his appearance with much dignity, Klavier sniffed. He went after the umbrella and made a bigger mess of himself as he trod in a particularly deep puddle. Machi laughed, tugging on his jacket.

"No, I meant a d-dog. Like a d-dachshund."

"A dachshund? Can't I at least be a Boston terrier?" Klavier played at being hurt, finally retrieving the umbrella.

"N-no, now let's go inside before I call you a Bichon Frise." When Klavier put the umbrella over their heads, Machi added, "Wh-what's the point?"

"Maybe I just want an excuse to be close to you," said Klavier with a smirk.

"Stop b-being charming, I'm st-still angry with you."

"Ja, ja, be angry, be angry. It will keep you nice and warm." Klavier let them back into the apartment building. Machi said a silent prayer of thanks for the sinful excesses of this first world nation. The heat was heavenly.

"Your lips are turning blue. First thing, you're getting a hot bath." In the elevator, Klavier rubbed Machi's arms, trying to induce some warmth and friction. Machi couldn't tell if it was making things any better. He felt as damp and icy as ever.

"St-still mad at you," Machi reminded him.

"Ja, ja, be very mad. What other thing shall I tell you to keep you nice and hotly angry? Ah, I know. The real reason I don't want to tell my former girlfriend about you is because she knows you, and she will say you're too good for me."

"She what?"

"You remember Detective Skye? It broke her heart when you were framed for murder, but she could do nothing but report the crime as she saw it."

"Snackoo lady? You dated snackoo lady? For how long? Did you fuck her?" Klavier's tactic seemed to be working. Machi's voice was raised, and he was too shocked to remember he was shivering.

"Two and half years, we were serious. Thinking about marriage, and she just left. Said she was sick of everyone she loved keeping so much distance." Skipping quickly past the hurt, Klavier said crisply, "I do not fuck, Machi, only make love."

"You _made love_ with snackoo lady. You almost married snackoo lady. That is very weird. You're weird."

The rule of shoes at the door suddenly suspended, Klavier and Machi trudged to the bathroom. Machi hugged the damp wool coat around him while Klavier ran him a bath. The bathroom matched the rest of the house – it was huge and modern. Both the stand up shower and the Jacuzzi bath could fit half a dozen people in. Machi wondered if it ever had. He had a hard time imagining Klavier doing those kinds of rock star things, no matter what his apartment was like. If he had to be honest, imagining him with snackoo lady was easier.

When the bath was full, Klavier peeled off every piece of Machi's clothes reverently. He pressed a kiss to his hand, his wrist and his shoulder. Then he helped Machi climb in.

Machi put his arm around him and kissed him in thanks. Sheepishly, he laughed and pulled away. "I'll get you wet."

"Couldn't much worse. Soak a bit, wash your hair if you like. I'll make us tea."

Machi watched him go. Stared at the ripple of his muscles beneath damp clothes. He wondered if he really should still be angry. He decided he couldn't hold onto it. Klavier had his own sets of problems and was studiously trying to avoid them. Knowing his perfectionist nature, he was probably doing a good enough job beating himself up for his shortcomings for the both of them.

Machi sighed, feeling the warmth and color return to his body. He slipped backwards in the bath, lying down under the water.

The memory sprang up without warning.

_The water is boiling hot. Beneath it, he can see swim trunks and hairy, fat legs. The hand won't let up. He opens his mouth to scream and there's only water. Water in his mouth and eyes. Chlorine burning. Hot. Too hot._

Machi sat up quickly in the bath, choking and coughing. The splashing noises echoed through the bathroom. Machi stared at the marble tiles and the silver fixtures. The room was massive and cold despite the steam coming off the bath. Machi lay back against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he would ever be normal.

He wondered if Klavier had these visions, too. He was afraid to ask.

"I brought you pajamas." Klavier knocked gently on the bathroom door, rousing Machi from his daze. Funny he would be so polite to Machi's nudity when he stripped him minutes before. "They're a bit big for you, but it's what I have."

Klavier was dressed in pajamas, two mismatched pieces from different sets. The bottom was black, printed over and over with the Pink Princess label; top was pinstriped in green and blue. Machi smiled widely. Seeing a mismatched Klavier felt like some sort of privilege.

"Your phone went off, but I didn't answer it."

"Good. I'm really getting sick of their habit of doing that over there."

"Frau Joella then called me, and I explained that we got caught in the rain while we were out on a walk. She yelled at me for letting you run around without an umbrella then asked me if you were staying over, I said I didn't know."

"I should call her."

"Ja. Towel?"

"Please."

Klavier threw one at his head. Machi stood up, drying himself. Klavier's towels were fluffy like hotel towels, nothing like the ancient threadbare ones at his has. They smelled a little like Klavier, too.

Klavier sat on the toilet, calmly staring at the ceiling as he waited for Machi to get dressed.

"You can look at me if you want," said Machi, climbing out of the tub.

"Not a good idea. If I look, I'll want to touch, and you're still angry with me."

"It's okay. I'm still a little hurt, but I can see you didn't mean to do that. So as long as I really am invited to the party, I can forgive you."

Klavier looked over to Machi and smiled, relieved. "Of course I want you there. If you don't mind being yelled at and possibly barraged with snackoos."

"What makes you think she'll throw them at me? You're the one who'll be in trouble with her." Machi strode over, knotting the towel at his waist. "Maybe you'll need me there to protect you." He looped arms around Klavier's neck.

"Ema can be awfully scary," Klavier warned him, returning the embrace.

"I'm scarier. I'll punch her in the face."

"You'd never be so vulgar." Klavier laughed to his bare collarbone.

"Don't be so sure. I punched Daryan today."

"…Surprising."

"Between you having some torrid affair with snackoo lady and me beating up Daryan, I wonder who of us is more so?"

"I think you're exaggerating a little."

"_I'm sorry sir, I don't speak English_," Machi said in coy Borginian.

"Have I already made you forget? And I haven't even turned my charm on to the full extent."

"I'm not afraid of your full extent."

"You shouldn't be afraid," agreed Klavier. He bit Machi softly on the neck and sucked for a long moment. He breathed and licked over that tender spot. "But you should be prepared."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This is around when I would sit and type for 5 hours at a time or more and began to experience cramping in my wrists and fingers. This continued for a week or two while I wrote this, though I tried to take a break.


	4. Chapter 4

Once they got to the bedroom, Klavier undressed and slipped into the guise of a practiced lover. He wore it as easily as a beat up, shapeless housecoat, like it was the most common thing. Machi was stunned into the silence at the sight of Klavier naked. He was every bit the golden god his fans still praised him for being to this day. His muscles were chiseled and taut, his tanned skin seemed to glow and his hair was a halo rather than a mess despite the night's weather. Yet it was the smile he wore for Machi that completed him and made this moment intimate reality.

Machi ran his hands over Klavier's chest, learning its lines. The chill and moisture from his clothes still lingered on his skin, hardening his nipples. He delighted at pinching there, earning a feline growl from Klavier.

Klavier gathered him up in his arms then, kissing him breathless then laying him over the bed. The bed suited the rest of the apartment, big and bold as it was – but Machi was too distracted to think of the meaning of the disconnect between his boyfriend's serene personality and taste for interior décor.

Machi tugged at the red sheets and stared at the vaulted ceiling as Klavier languidly memorized his neck and collarbone with his tongue. "You're driving me crazy," Machi muttered. It was a cold anxiety in the pit of his stomach rather than the heat of arousal that made him complain. "Just hurry up and fuck me."

"Now?" Klavier gazed at him, deep blue concern. "Surely you know I do otherwise. If I did such a thing, I fear I'd finish quickly and leave you unsatisfied."

Something about those words sent a jolt through Machi. He swallowed hard. "No, I like it like that."

Klavier rubbed a circle over Machi's nipple, seeming to pull the gasp from him with a single thumb. "Have you ever known anything else?"

"No, but," Machi was having trouble speaking as Klavier touched with tongue instead of fingers, "I, ah, never, um, saw the need…"

He cried out too loudly when Klavier applied teeth. Klavier looked up at him, genuinely concerned. "Machi, you need to relax."

"I can't relax when you do things like that to me!" Machi blustered, sure that his face could take up a secondary profession as a brazier.

"Relax," Klavier said, kissing him. "Relax. Breathe. We can take our time."

Machi nodded like fluttering and calmed his breathing. He still felt keyed up, squirming and fidgeting.

"I have an idea."

Klavier rose from the bed, sauntering out of the room. Machi took this opportunity to ogle his finely sculpted ass. He wouldn't have thought such a thing possible, but it seemed Klavier was even more confident without clothes on. He strode down the halls of his penthouse like a lion.

He returned with a bottle of white wine and two glasses.

"I don't really like wine, besides, I'm not old enough," Machi said, taking his glass. "Is the district's finest prosecutor honestly giving alcohol to a minor?"

"You are an adult in the eyes of the law," said Klavier, pouring the wine.

"And in your eyes?"

"You are beautiful."

"But am I adult?"

"You are Machi. Believe me, it's not your youth I find appealing. I'm not…" Klavier turned to set the bottle of wine on the dresser. He tasted his wine then set his glass down rather than finish his sentence. "This is _eiswein_. A very sweet dessert wine from frozen grapes."

"Icy wine?"

"Try it."

Machi sipped it, making a face reflectively before realizing – "Oh, I like this! It goes down easily, like juice only stronger." He took another drink.

"I thought you would. I drank a lot of it when I was young, before I developed my palate." Klavier gazed into the past without expression. Machi kissed him to pull him back into the future. Klavier smiled and hugged him closer. Machi climbed into his lap.

"Can I have another glass?"

"You gulped that down," Klavier chuckled. "I'll give you one more. Don't drink it so fast. It will catch up to you." He stroked Machi's back, tracing the line of his spine.

"It will not!" Machi laughed. Of course it already had, but who could fault Machi for wanting more of this warm, pleasant feeling?

"You're so thin," said Klavier. "The alcohol will affect you quickly, especially since you don't drink."

"Maybe I should eat snackoos. Grow a butt like Detective Skye."

"Machi, engel, hasi," Klavier punctuated each pet name with gentle fingertips, tucking Machi's hair behind his ear. "Never, ever mention her in bed again." He pressed the admonishment to Machi's ear. "It ruins the mood."

Shifting gingerly with Machi in his lap, Klavier poured Machi another glass of wine and began to nurse his own.

"You're not drinking."

"It's a little sweet for my taste, actually," said Klavier with a touch of regret. "I'm afraid I've outgrown it." He drank a little more, though. Machi watched his mouth, his throat, and thought it lovely. He kissed Klavier there, over his Adam's apple. He climbed and shifted, trying to get comfortable, when something brushed his leg that caught his attention.

"Do you tan naked?" Machi asked Klavier.

"Ja. Why do you ask?"

"It's the same color as everywhere else." Machi might have only meant to point, but he couldn't resist the urge to touch Klavier's cock, bringing it to life. He studied its growth with fascination, feeling himself stir as Klavier did. "Well, almost."

"The first time I attempted it, I got the nastiest sunburn. And I was too horny to do anything but cause myself sadness and trouble when I tried to apply lotion to it."

Machi collapsed into giggles, falling backwards onto the bed. He propped himself up one elbow, still drinking his wine. "You sunburned your dick? Wait, does that mean you laid out in the sun with it just… hanging out for everyone to see? I thought you used a tanning bed."

"Ja, though I stopped that practice when the Gavinners started having a following. Luckily the paparazzi never got a picture." Klavier stretched out on his side beside Machi, stroking his hip. "The trick is to be careful. After all, the skin there is delicate."

"That poor thing, it's been through a lot, hasn't it?" Machi's hand went back to Klavier's cock, pumping it slowly. "Maybe I should give it a kiss."

"I assure you it's feeling no pain currently," Klavier smirked. "But it would not object."

Machi tried to situate himself but couldn't properly do so until Klavier snorted and took the wine glass from his hand. Machi inched downwards until he was face-to-face with Klavier's half-hard, uncircumcised cock. He ran his hand over Klavier's hip and down the smooth skin of his thigh. "You shave your legs." Of course he noticed it before, but like this it was so much more punctuated. "You shave… everything, don't you?"

"I like to look good naked." Klavier was a little embarrassed by this admonition, but not defensive.

"Were you expecting to get laid?" Machi looked up at him curiously. They had never discussed sex or their relationship status, but he had assumed Klavier currently wasn't getting any.

"Nein. It's become habit after so long." Realizing that hint of self-consciousness in Machi's eyes, he petted the younger man's hair. "There's only you. And you defy expectation."

"That's what everyone always says about me," said Machi, pressing the promised kiss to his cock head. He pulled playfully at the foreskin with his lips, coaxing him into further wakefulness with a firm hand. He licked and toyed until Klavier was fully hard, then lowered hot, moist lips down over him.

Klavier uttered words that Machi recognized as curses. Pleased, he sucked and licked, creating the wet friction he knew would please Klavier. Klavier twitched in his mouth, sighed and tugged his hair, gifted him with the bitter sign of readiness. Machi moaned deep in his throat, going maddeningly hard at the very _idea_ of it all.

_ Walkürenritt_ sounded distantly, echoing from the bathroom across the hall. Machi knew immediately his phone was going off, jerked his head up and bumped Klavier. The wine glass Klavier still held was dumped all over his back and shoulder.

"_Pig-fucking donkeys in hell!_" Machi swore in Borginian, tripping on his own feet to make it to the bathroom before the phone went to voicemail. He caught on the last ring. "Hello, Joella? I know, I'm so sorry."

"I understood about half of that, and none of it was very polite," mused Klavier, leaning in the doorway.

"It won't happen again, I'll call if I'm staying over. I'll see you tomorrow, bye." Machi snapped the phone shut, shoving it back in his damp pocket. He looked over to Klavier. "I'm sorry."

"You're cute when you're annoyed."

Machi stared at Klavier lounging in the doorway, and for one long, frustrated moment wondered if _anything_ ever really rattled him.

"Now, now, don't make that face."

Machi sighed. "You spilled my wine all over me. Now I need to bathe again."

"Is it that bad? Let me see." Klavier appeared in his space and gently urged Machi to turn and face the bathroom wall while he inspected the spill.

"It's getting sticky," Machi groused. Then gasped when Klavier swept his tongue across his shoulder blade. "I – I thought you didn't like the eiswein. You outgrew it."

"I think I prefer the adult version." Klavier seemed determined to clean up his mess, lingering over Machi's smooth, wine-stained muscles until he tasted only the sweetness of skin. His hands rested at Machi's hips, callused fingers brushing there. He breathed steam over Machi's neck, heating what was already dampened. This must have pushed some accidental button, because suddenly Machi thought he might turn to jelly with the slightest touch. The wine made the world far too sensual and sweet.

Then Klavier reached around to stroke him. He knew Klavier was hard too, tried to move, get leverage against him, but he was just out of reach. "I wish you could see yourself right now," Klavier confessed to him. "Or you could understand the German – you are – so lovely." His accent grew thicker and rougher with each moment, contrasting the maddening softness of his touch. "The sound of you, the taste and smell… you are made of such fine bones, your skin is so very white… I think I love your shoulders best, the shape of them, they need wings…" Klavier bit Machi suddenly, earning a yelp that startled them both out of reverie. "If I go on, I'll write a song."

"It would be a good song," Machi panted. One hand held the wrist that stroked him. He leaned against the other, flattened to the wall.

"But I don't want to write a song, I want more to drink."

"The wine's in the bedroom."

"I don't want anymore wine." Klavier let go then, making Machi whimper. He turned the shorter man around and then dropped to his knees in front of him.

Machi wanted to protest, but the look on Klavier's face was so sincere he found himself tracing the line of his jaw instead. The words of resistance seemed more like apology. "I've never… no one's ever…"

He was hard but not ashamed. Klavier looked up at him with adoration, teasing him with fingers so gentle Machi could hardly stand it. "Then I'll be your first. I'm glad."

Klavier drank him deeply. Machi's fingers gripped his hair too hard, but he couldn't seem to untangle as his hips bucked and Klavier accepted his demands. When Machi's knees gave way Klavier carefully pushed him to sit on the toilet, urging legs over shoulders and not even seeming to stop.

Machi was utterly incoherent while some tiny voice in the back of his mind praised the discovery of why blowjobs were such a big deal. When Machi managed to open his eyes (he'd closed them?) he noticed movement beside him. He glanced over to his reflection of his naked upper half and the often disappearing back of Klavier's head. Machi looked down at him, saw his cock moving past those sumptuous lips. Klavier met his gaze, eyes loving and mouth totally full. Machi pulled his hair and came immediately.

When Klavier drank all Machi could give, he stood over his ruins and kissed him just beside his mouth. "Lovely."

"You have a little…" Machi licked the little sticky trail that dribbled from Klavier's mouth and then laughed, pulling him close for a deep kiss. "I think I like it better than the eiswein," he said, licking Klavier's lips, drunk and delirious.

Klavier gathered him up and carried him to bed in what Machi considered to be a rather unnecessary show of manly strength. He laid Machi out on the bed gingerly, then sat down. After rooting around in the nightstand, he found a dog-eared notebook and pen and began to scribble in it intently. Machi sat up, throwing an arm over him and reading over his shoulder.

"So klingt liebe? You're really writing a song. Wow."

"It's been years since I've been so inspired," said Klavier, pushing Machi's hair out of his face. "You shouldn't watch me while I'm working, though."

"And you shouldn't write when I should be repaying you."

"If you want to repay me, bring me my guitar. Or lay down so I can use you like a desk." Klavier was clearly teasing, but Machi decided to take him up on his suggestion anyway, and lay across his lap. Klavier promptly set the notebook on his back, continuing to write. While he seemed perfectly devoted to his task, Machi could feel Klavier growing harder trapped underneath his chest.

Machi could only endure a few minutes of this kind of temptation and had soon shifted from serving as a desk to giving Klavier an intensely thorough blowjob. Luckily, Klavier was all too ready to set aside his pen and paper and receive the pleasure. He threw his head back, breathing softly and rubbing the back of Machi's neck appreciatively.

"How do I do it," Machi spoke between licks as he worked Klavier with insistent hands. "How do I undo you like you undid me?"

"I'm not sure what you're asking me."

Machi stopped and looked up at Klavier. He was getting hard again from the friction against the sheets, from the weight of Klavier's cock against his lips. "Let's make love."

Klavier nodded quickly. "Lay down, I'll get you ready." He got lube from the nightstand. Machi wondered what other essentials he could possibly keep in there.

"No." Machi grabbed it from his hand. "Let me… let me do this. You watch."

Klavier swallowed audibly. "If you like."

Machi warmed the lube in his hands, spreading it over and in deep, working the muscles until they gave way to his fingers. He uttered a curse, feeling his face go hot. Klavier watched him, stroking his proudly erect cock.

Wetting his lips, Machi climbed atop Klavier. Both had been generous with the lube, and guiding Klavier to the needed place was at first a little messy. Those concerns completely disappeared as Machi bore down and buried Klavier deep in him.

Both uttered profanity as Machi adjusted, and again when he began to move. They were separate and lost in their own languages, yet moved in complete synch. Machi gripped Klavier's shoulders. Klavier gripped his hips. Machi bore down. Klavier moved up. The mattress creaked beneath them.

Desperation colored their movements as Machi rode him faster, the strikes to his prostate ushering out choked cries. He had forgotten this feeling, this fullness bordering on being rendered. He kissed Klavier's mouth and bit him. Klavier gave a feral, frustrated growl and pushed Machi off him. Tables were turned and Machi was on his back, legs forced wide as Klavier slammed him into the bed. Machi held onto him for dear life, the friction and Klavier's ferocity already close to getting him off.

"Please," pleaded Machi, though he was past the point of being able to elaborate what he begged for. He resorted to old tactics, wanted the peak, wanted Klavier's expression.

"Look at you," Klavier purred. "Just look at you. You're so ready. Aren't you?"

Machi squirmed and cried out a word he hoped sounded affirmative. Klavier took Machi's hand by the wrist and placed it between them. "Let go."

Machi nodded and handled himself vigorously. Klavier lost all restraint then, doing something that was a lot more like _fucking_ than _making love_, not that this was the time to argue semantics. As he came for the second time that night, white fireworks exploded in front of Machi's eyes. He missed out learning what Klavier's face looked like when he came inside him.

For a long time, they were completely silent, gulping air in the stunned post-coital moments. Then Klavier pulled out and gathered Machi in his arms, kissing him gently. "Sheisse…" he laughed nervously. "I sort of lost it there; it's been years for me. Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Machi gave a laugh that sounded horribly hollow in his ears. "No, it was amazing. You couldn't hurt me. Not you."

Klavier frowned, brow knotting. "Really, are you okay?"

Machi nodded mutely.

"Answer me. Please?"

Machi shook his head no.

"Please Machi, please, engel, don't leave me, not now, not like this." Machi saw the genuine fear in Klavier's eyes and tried to swim past the cold that now threatened him. He touched Klavier's face.

Klavier turned away, hiding his face between his arm and the pillow. Machi stared at his back, drawing little circles and lines on it with his fingertips. Klavier was crying without making a sound. Tears streaked down Machi's face, but he couldn't find a voice to say any words at all.

Eventually Klavier and Machi fell asleep back-to-back, twisted in grimy sheets. Machi kept finding himself awake, listening to the even sounds of Klavier's breathing. He'd forgotten how difficult it was for him to relax with someone in his bed. Still, fitful sleep overcame him occasionally. He dreamed.

_Machi is sitting in a white room with absolutely no features. He's looking for something important, but he can't remember what it is. Then he hears the telephone ring faintly in the distance. He searches everywhere for that phone. He knows he needs to pick it up. If he doesn't answer it, someone will die._

Machi woke up troubled and stumbled to the bathroom to empty his bladder. It was morning and the dim light of dawn illuminated the apartment. Machi pulled on the pajamas Klavier gave him to wear last night. As predicted, they were too big.

Not really wanting to face the mess in the bed, Machi thought to go to the kitchen. As he trudged down the hall, the sound of a phone ringing caused him to nearly leap out of his skin. It was coming from Klavier's office.

Half asleep and remembering his dream, Machi stumbled into the office. It was as garishly modern as the rest of the penthouse, though the pinky-blue light softened its lines. The phone continued to ring. He wondered if it rang before and informed his dream.

As Machi reached for the phone on the desk, his elbow bumped a picture frame. He picked it up, momentarily transfixed.

He recognized Klavier immediately, though he was quite young, ten years old or so. He was not really smiling, and stood slightly apart from the blond family group that posed next to him. The parents were unremarkable, blond and graying with smiles like plastic. In the center stood a tall, handsome teenager with familiar hair. He wore glasses and a sickeningly peaceful smile. He was touching the small of Klavier's back, despite Klavier edging away.

Machi knew this man and his name and he felt like crying for that little boy, Klavier. He picked up the picture frame and brushed his lips over the cold glass, as if a kiss could rewrite the past.

The phone was still ringing. Without thinking, Machi picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello? Wait, this isn't Prosecutor Gavin."

"…Detective Skye?"

"…Machi Tobaye? Why are you—"

"I thought you were still in Germany, Klavier said…"

"Is he there? I need him at the scene of a crime." Detective Skye was all business. At least she wasn't munching.

"Oh." All at once Machi woke up. He realized he was standing in the center of Klavier's office holding a picture frame and a phone Klavier used for work, and none of those things seemed like very good ideas.

A naked figure darkened the door of the office. He spoke with terseness unknown to Machi, and crossed the room in a couple of steps. "What are you doing in here? Don't touch anything!"

"That sounds like him," said Detective Skye, "I'd recognize that tantrum anywhere."

Klavier's anger would've sent the surface of the sun into an ice age. He spoke through gritted teeth. "Put that down and get out of here. Don't you have more sense than to touch my things?"

"I'm sorry," Machi stammered. "I wasn't thinking."

"Obviously not!" Klavier snapped, snatching the phone from him. Machi backed towards the door. "Leave the photo!" he barked.

Machi set it down quickly on a bookshelf and ran to the bathroom. He climbed into his clothes. They were still damp and sitting in a heap from the night before. Shivering, he quietly let himself out of the apartment. The sky was brightening. It would be cold today.

_Quando m'en vo_ rang tinny from his pocket, but Machi just ignored it until it stopped. He found a bus stop and sat on the bench, sore, exhausted and bereft. The bus didn't come for nearly an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This chapter I will always consider to be "the chapter where Klavier and Machi take forever to have sex. Don't ever let it be implied you have total control of your characters, because they kept almost getting the point of doing it and getting interrupted until the end. Ah well, was the payoff good?


	5. Chapter 5

Three weeks passed. Klavier didn't call him. Machi was afraid of what that meant, so of course he didn't call to confirm the worst. Instead, he busied himself with school and the recent school play he was cast in. Thanksgiving was coming up. Machi told himself he was distracted enough that it didn't matter. He didn't need that answer. He told himself to stop thinking it over and over again.

"Have you and Klavier broken up?" Edgeworth brought up the very words that haunted them over tea one day.

"No. Well, I don't know. We had a bad night, I did something stupid, and he hasn't called me since. And honestly I don't know if we counted as together in the first place." Machi stared at his teacup, running his finger tentatively over the lip. He wondered how completely obvious he was, calling Edgeworth and spending more time with he and Lamiroir than usual.

Edgeworth sipped his tea. His posture was perfect, his pinkie delicately raised. "I thought it must be something like that. He acted oddly when I asked about Thanksgiving, and has been stumbling around the office like someone stole his left shoe."

"Are you sure it isn't because Detective Skye has been in town?" Machi wrung his napkin in his hand.

"I'm unsure what that would have to do with Klavier," said Edgeworth, evenly distributing butter over every millimeter of his scone.

"Because… they were once together, but she left him."

Edgeworth looked up from his scone. He was a bit disdainful, though gentleness touched his gray eyes. "He's not seeing her, if that's your concern. He is not that kind of person."

Machi squirmed in his chair, unable to get comfortable. "I know, but what if he still loves her? After all, she's a girl, and I'm so much younger than him… maybe…"

"Did he say that?"

"What?"

"That he still loves her."

"No, but… maybe…"

"Machi." Edgeworth cut through Machi's worried stammering. "If it concerns you that much, why don't you ask him?"

"I don't want to get in the way. I made him so angry." Machi bound his hand with his napkin tightly. "I messed everything up." He stared at his lap. He knew Edgeworth was looking at him.

"You're going to encounter bumps in the road. Are you willing to give up on him because of that?"

"He could call me."

"He won't, will he?" The sympathy in Edgeworth's voice was heartbreaking. "Sometimes, you have to reach out a little bit."

Machi said nothing for a very long time. Edgeworth slowly ate his scone without leaving a single crumb on his cravat.

"I think I should go home now," Machi said.

"I'll drive you."

They didn't speak of Klavier anymore on the drive back. Edgeworth played Dvořák and they discussed the horn solo in _New World Symphony_, though this was old ground for them. As Machi climbed out of the car, Edgeworth stopped him with his voice.

"You are still coming to the Christmas party, aren't you?"

"I wasn't going to," said Machi. "Unless Klavier said something to me about it."

"I think he's going to need you there. Frankly, he'll be miserable if you don't go, and make a terrible host. It would be an embarrassment for the prosecutor's office."

Machi leaned on the doorframe. "And that's why you really want me to come?"

A tiny bit of a smile threatened the corner of Edgeworth's lips. "It's entirely possible."

"It," said Machi, shutting the door, "Is not." He marched up the driveway, hiding his amusement.

Edgeworth rolled down the window, calling out to him. "So are you coming?"

Machi stopped at the doorstep and turned to meet him. He didn't know why a smile suddenly lit his features. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, especially since I'm not coming to Thanksgiving."

"Good. Thalassa mentioned wanting to take you clothes shopping for the party, I'll let her know so she can make arrangements."

"Thanks, Herr Edgeworth."

"And to you, Herr Machi." This time, the smile that threatened made its appearance. Machi blushed, suddenly realizing what he just said.

He ran inside and slammed the door behind him.

 

The onset of December always sent Machi into a bleak depression. The combination of twinkling lights, bright red and green decorations and the constant barrage of Christmas carols gave him a headache and made him vaguely nauseas. Even the reappearance of a certain rockstar-turned-prosecutor couldn't shake his malaise. In fact, Klavier made it worse, in a way. He was busy with a case, never had time for anything but nightly phone calls and a snagged dinner here and there.

There was never a conversation about that night, really. After speaking to Edgeworth, Machi phoned Klavier and tried to put his emotions into adequate English. Klavier simply said, "Apology accepted. I acted badly as well. Let's move on." And when Klavier saw him next he had a rose for him and his hand at the small of Machi's back. Nagging thoughts were put to rest when Machi had so little time to see Klavier.

What burdened him more at the moment was that Machi had no idea what to get Klavier for Christmas. Klavier gave no hints, just a charming grin, saying that whatever Machi wanted to give him was just fine.

Though Klavier clearly didn't have much time for reading, nor seemed the type to care for literature, Machi wandered into a bookstore. He perused one shelf, brushing fingertips over _Lolita_. Daryan bought him a Borginian translation as a gift once. He was proud that the irony wasn't lost on him at the time, but as years passed Machi wondered about the book. Reviews often made Lolita out as a terrible little girl, but what sort of control did she have over her life, really? What sort of control did Machi have when he met Daryan?

Machi paced the store. He caught himself humming along with a country rendition of "Silent Night" on the radio. His annoyance found him in the magazine rack, where a tabloid headline screamed for his attention.

"GUILTY LOVE?"

At first, he didn't realize what it was the headline was describing. His mind went blank for a moment as he stared at the blurry, pixilated mess. Then the information all caught up at once: it was a camera phone picture of he and Klavier kissing.

Machi touched his lips in memory. The kiss wasn't nearly as serious as the picture seemed to make it – just a brief embrace on Machi's doorstep before parting ways for the night. The tabloid promised "exclusive photos of their secret gay love affair." In a smaller box beneath the text was a clearer photo of them together at Steel Samurai World, holding hands. As Machi moved to pick up the magazine, he realized he was shaking, hands sweating so much it made it hard to turn the pages.

Despite both of their disinclination towards public displays of affection, inside was a veritable photo essay of their quiet dates and held hands. There was even another snapshot of a goodnight kiss. Scrunching up the paper in his hands, Machi forced himself to walk to the register and buy the rag even though his legs felt made of cement. Then tension seemed to snap him like a bow, and he ran 5 blocks to the prosecutor's office. He blew past the secretaries like they didn't exist and threw himself into Klavier's office, expecting to interrupt him the middle of one of his important phone calls.

Klavier was crouched over his desk, resting his head on his arms. The first thing Machi noticed about his sleeping form was the dirty trails on his cheek from tears. Machi's heart suddenly calmed. He brushed Klavier's hair out of his eyes. Klavier muttered something in German Machi didn't understand, and opened his eyes.

"Machi." He smiled, and Machi's heart broke and lit up all at once. Klavier's eyes were still red from the tears, and his voice was so tired and sad. "I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep. Did I forget to meet you somewhere?"

"No. I'm sorry I just burst in like that, something happened… Are you okay? You were crying, weren't you?"

"No, I'm sure I wasn't," said Klavier, fixing him with a charming smile and looping around Machi's waist, pressing a face to his stomach. "How have you been, Machi?"

"Don't lie to me," Machi whispered, pushing Klavier's hair out of his face. His hair seemed a bit dirty, maybe unwashed for a day or two. The curl it typically gathered itself into seemed a little unraveled. "You're a mess."

"I've been day and night at the office for this trial, ja? It's always challenging to go against Herr Forehead."

"Then why were you crying?"

"I wasn't." Klavier smiled and Machi felt his throat close.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Then why do you look so sad?"

"Perhaps it is because I haven't seen my engel in so very long." He was laying on the charm thick and Machi almost grabbed him by the shoulders to shake him. He wanted to close his eyes and revel in the pet name, Klavier's warm mouth nuzzling his belly, but he simply couldn't.

"If you're not planning on telling me, fine, I'll drop it. I won't force it out of you." Machi freed himself of Klavier's embrace and fished the crumpled gossip rag out of his pocket. "Look at this. They took pictures of us at my house. And at the amusement park, and Edgeworth's tea place…"

Klavier took the magazine from his hands and looked it over. He laughed and set it on his desk. _Laughed._

"What's funny about this?" Machi spat. "They've been following us! Why? The Gavinners broke up four years ago, and Lamiroir and I quit music."

"It's very simple, engel. When you love something, you never let it go. Even if it's a great band with a gorgeous front man that's broken up. Naturally, the fräuleins have not forgotten us. Ah, look, they're even theorizing that I'm with you to get revenge on Daryan." Klavier kept smiling, but Machi thought he looked even wearier as he did it.

"You're not upset?"

"Nein. You're upset enough for both of us, aren't you?" Klavier smoothed out the magazine more, tracing the lines of their figures.

"Isn't enough that I made a mockery of Borginia by being a smuggler? Now they'll hate me for being a homo, too. I can't believe this, why won't they just leave us alone?"

"Because we are famous, we never totally belong to ourselves."

"I don't know about you, but I belong to myself only," Machi snapped.

Klavier rubbed his temple. "We should come clean about our relationship. I know some good reporters."

"No. Absolutely not. What would we say?"

"That we're indeed in a relationship, and to please give us our privacy."

"They'll want to know more. Besides, what would we say our relationship is, exactly?"

"I'll ask an interviewer who's too thick to get real answers out of us."

"And our relationship?" Machi crossed his arms, staring at Klavier intensely.

Klavier ran his fingers through his hair. "Are you conducting an interview?"

"I don't know what you're playing at, being so indifferent to all of this." Machi hugged himself tightly. "I don't even know where you stand with snackoo lady, and now I'm supposed to announce to the whole world we're together? What does that even mean? It's not like we're ever going to have sex again, after that night…"

Klavier tugged at Machi's fingers, grasping them and unwrapping him. He held both of Machi's hands in his and squeezed them. "Ema was a very special fräulein. She and Herr Forehead were the first I ever became close to who didn't treat me like a special rock star. Honestly, she dumped me… saying things like you say just now. Everyone… always… with me. Says that. Calling me unfeeling."

Machi squeezed Klavier's hands. "Do you still love her?"

"I do, but not in the way you fear. You know, just the other day she walked up to me and said, 'Glimmerous fop, I have reached the scientific conclusion that you are a homosexual.' Then she pelted me with snackoos for hiding the fact from her for so long."

"What sort of evidence did she have?" Machi tried to keep a straight face, a difficult task with that mental picture.

"Something about the way I dress, I suppose. Ridiculous, ja?"

Machi only nodded. He was sure if he opened his mouth he would laugh.

Klavier took him off the hook by laughing himself. "Do you think I'm gay?"

"Maybe it's my bad understanding of American concepts, but you seem pretty gay to me. Since you wear thumb rings. And fuck men."

"My engel doesn't count."

"And Daryan?"

Klavier blanched. "We're not like that. Weren't. Aren't. Why would you think…? I can't be with men, I haven't since… you're the only one."

Machi gave Klavier a smile he hoped was assuring, and stepped forward to wrap his arms around his shoulders. "He had some sort of thing about you, that's all. He would never shut up about you, actually, so I thought maybe…"

"There were times things were weird but we were never like that. Kristoph was still… around, so I'm afraid I was oblivious to most everything."

Machi looked over to the window. In the dark of the glass, he could see himself embracing his older companion. When he saw his expression, he wasn't even sure what word to use for it. "I didn't mean to upset you. So I'm the only boyfriend you've ever had?"

"Boyfriend sounds so childish."

"I'm a…" Machi glanced over to the magazine. "Delicate, barely 18-year-old nymph, according to this paper. Boyfriend seems just fine. Besides, it takes the seriousness away from it, lover sounds so serious."

"Don't you want to be my lover?" Klavier looked up at him with a clearly bruised ego.

Machi kissed his nose. "Only in bed. I don't want to be your lover to the rest of the world."

"Ah… not only in bed, I hope. You struck me as more adventurous than that." The sparkle of humor returned to Klavier's blue eyes.

"You know what I meant."

"You wouldn't mind if I took you over this desk, or against the window, then?" Klavier tugged Machi down to his face, pressing a playful kiss to his lips.

"How are you even thinking about something like that right now?" Machi laughed nervously, feeling his face flush. He glanced over to the clock. "I have to get going, actually, I have play rehearsal. I was only going to do a little shopping before I went. Oh, that reminds me. What do you want for Christmas? I know you told me anything was good, but I need help."

"Actually, I know exactly what I want." Klavier's gaze settled on Machi's form, heavy and ponderous.

"Me in a skimpy Santa outfit?" Machi grinned mischievously.

"I wouldn't object, but I'd like you to do something with you a little more appropriately attired." Klavier smiled, stroking Machi's cheek.

"Okay?"

"Please play the piano at my Christmas party. We need accompaniment, and if I let the piano go unattended, Herr Wright will play it and… I would be a bad host to allow it."

"Wouldn't want to embarrass the prosecutor's office," Machi snorted, remembering Edgeworth's words. "I can't, though. I haven't played in years."

"Just a few Christmas carols. Frau Thalassa and Fräulein Trucy so love singing carols, and I… I would love to hear you play again as well. I've ached for your light notes, lately, for some reason… all of the troubles of the world melt away when you play."

Klavier's words were earnest. That exhausted, sorrowful cloud over his features seemed to lift when he spoke of the music. Machi had no choice, of course. "I'll do it. But instead, _you_ have to wear the Santa outfit, okay?"

"Anything you wish, engel."

Machi wished for many things. He wished on the glinting lights of the city outside their window and sealed it with a kiss to Klavier's lips. Klavier rested his hands on his hips. They breathed each other for many long, still minutes as the world shrunk to the two of them.


	6. Chapter 6

Machi recognized the reporter before he even approached. Fantastic, of course he'd be stopped by the press on his way to Klavier Gavin's Christmas shindig. Since finding that tabloid article, Machi's senses were scanning double-time, crackling with electricity. He jumped at slammed doors and swore he saw cameraman lurking in every bush. As if to balance it out, Klavier seemed all the more mellow, not at all worried about being seen, always trying to kiss away his fears or otherwise distract him. It was driving Machi up and down a wall.

Somehow Machi wasn't surprised when the mostly-bald man started to speak to him in the elevator. He tried to hide behind the box of presents in his arms, but it was too late.

He peeked through his brightly wrapped gift bags at the man's bushy shock of hair. His gigantic nose seemed to be inflating like a red, strawberry-shaped balloon. At first, Machi thought perhaps the reporter wore over-strong aftershave. No, he realized the scent was mint as in toothpaste.

"Is that Machi Tobaye? Borginia's pixie of the arpeggio?" The reporter could hardly contain his glee.

"…No?" It was worth a try. Machi couldn't bring himself to think of himself by that title anymore, anyway. Tonight would be the first time he'd touched a piano since he was arrested.

"It is you, isn't it, Mr. Tobaye? You know, there have been some pretty crazy rumors circling about you. Have you decided who you're going to come out to?"

"I beg your pardon?" The elevator stopped. Machi bolted for the door. The toothbrush man kept pace.

"Which reporter you're going to give your story to? Are you going to select one or go to the magazine that will pay the most for it? A celebrity's got to consider these things."

"I'm not a celebrity."

"I see. Quote, 'Star's brightness outshined by the glow of modesty,' end quote."

"That isn't what I meant," Machi mumbled. Sighing heavily, Machi tried to figure out how he was going to knock on the door with his hands full. Fortunately, the overenthusiastic man in spectacles took it upon himself to ring the doorbell.

"Can I say something, for the record?"

The stranger took Machi's withering silence as affirmation.

"A happy story like that might take away from the negative press the Gavins have been getting lately."

"Negative press?" Machi tended to ignore current events. It wasn't a big deal in his household; he was busy with other things. There were plenty of times he would be the last one to know about a bombing or a natural disaster, he was simply too absorbed in his own little world to care much. Seeing himself plastered on a tabloid front page had made him want to watch or read the news even less.

"'One star falls, another burns.' Or maybe, 'Prosecution witnesses the execution, creates quite a scene…'"

"Execution…" Machi was overtaken with dizziness. He almost went down, arms too full to brace himself. From behind him, strong hands grabbed his shoulders to steady him. "Daryan," Machi gasped.

"Phoenix Wright, actually," replied a voice that Machi found oddly familiar. Machi turned slightly to see a person he'd expected to look a lot less civilized. Instead, he saw a broad-shouldered man with hair slicked back and a tendency towards laugh wrinkles. He wore a navy suit that brought out the bright blue of his eyes. "Why don't I take that off your hands? Thalassa said you'd be coming with goodies."

Machi stood stiffly as Phoenix took the box. He tried to form words but he was afraid he'd blurt out the obvious. Daryan's execution date wasn't for a while yet. But Kristoph's…

Phoenix smiled at him. Machi had thought he might hate the man, jealous of his place in Thalassa's heart and his role in taking Lamiroir away from him. He smiled and Machi couldn't hate him at all. He was so calm.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Machi," said Phoenix.

The door swung open. The three party guests were assaulted with _Ella's Swingin' Christmas_ and the mouth-watering smell of a dozen delicious foods. Red-clad arms snaked out like tentacles and grabbed Machi about the waist, tugging him into the apartment.

"You're here, engel! And you're under the miseltoe!"

"Well _now_ I am!"

Machi suddenly received a face full of Klavier kiss. His lips were hot, his breath tasted of sweetness and bourbon. Machi kissed him back for about three seconds before he realized Phoenix and the reporter were still standing there. Machi pushed Klavier away. "You're drunk, aren't you?" He said to Klavier in a stage whisper.

"Nein, nein. I am merry!"

Machi wanted to admire Klavier in his Christmas-red suit and designer Santa hat. The way he flourished and laughed, he seemed to be quite relaxed.

"You look good," said Klavier, appraising Machi. "Though I wish you'd picked something in a more lively color. Charcoal is so… blah."

Machi snatched his box of presents from Phoenix, covering the sight of his clothes. "I'm putting these under the tree," he muttered.

Klavier moved on to greet his other guests. He kissed Phoenix on the cheek.

"Your party hasn't even started and you're already hammered, Klavier," Phoenix chided Klavier gently. "Miles is going to kill you if you embarrass the prosecutor's office."

"I'm not dancing on the tables yet, Herr Wright." Klavier giggled, and Machi's chest tightened. "I'm saving that for later."

Machi turned away. He kneeled at the tree that dominated most of Klavier's living room. Yesterday, they had a few drinks while trimming it, hanging bits and baubles while humming along to _Nutcracker Suite._ Many of the ornaments were family heirlooms. He wondered how Klavier could stand to look at them every day. He wondered if Klavier ever missed Germany like Machi missed Borginia.

As he set out each neatly labeled bag of Borginian cakes, Machi found himself slipping into a dream:

_He and Klavier are sitting in front of a fire. Klavier's paying that extra special attention to his ear in that way that makes him squirm. The door opens. Someone tall and imposing is in the doorway, a silhouette Machi feels he should recognize. He can't bring himself to turn and see, but Klavier lets go and runs to the door._

"I've missed you," he says, "I've been waiting. This kid's starting to bore me, he's so uptight."

"Machi?"

Machi nearly jumped out of his skin. Someone's hand on his shoulder brought him back to earth. He knew the sweetness of the touch without looking, and stood up suddenly to embrace a slender waist.

"Thank goodness you're here." Machi pressed his face into Thalassa's shoulder. "I hate parties. I don't know why I came." He wanted to crawl underneath Thalassa's skin and stay there. Didn't want to hear any more Christmas music, didn't want to see Klavier flirt with each guest as they came in.

"_Shh, it's okay, everyone's here. Klavier needs you right now._" Thalassa stroked his back, murmuring to him in Borginian.

"_Are you sure? I think if he drinks any more eggnog he's going to forget I'm here entirely._"

Machi fingered the embroidery on Thalassa's dress. She was lovely in green and gold. Nearby, he could see a bright-eyed girl in the same colors, her dress a more flirtatious cut. Machi recognized her as the top hat girl that visited him with Apollo in prison. She had to be a senior in high school by now, just like him.

Thalassa didn't seem to have a reply for him, so she said, "Let me introduce you to my children. They've been wanting to meet you."

"I've met them," Machi reminded her, but he was already being tugged over to meet her daughter.

"You remember Trucy. Trucy, this is Machi."

"Machi!" Trucy threw her arms around the blond boy like they were old friends. "My cute little brother! You're going to play Christmas carols for us, aren't you?"

"Since when am I your…"

"This is my boyfriend, Jean Paul. He's president of the drama club at school!"

Machi stared at the black-clad, beret-wearing teenager and wondered if Trucy hadn't perhaps adopted her mother's habit of surrounding herself with homosexuals. Jean Paul was giving him the eye. Machi looked over his shoulder for Klavier, who was greeting Apollo and a blue-haired woman at the door.

"I like your suit, but you should not have picked such a dark color," said Jean Paul through his nose.

"Everyone's saying that tonight."

Trucy stared at the two young men. She grabbed Jean Paul by the arm. "Daddy said he wanted to play poker with my new boyfriend, let's go!"

Thalassa chuckled as Trucy dragged her boyfriend in the other direction.

"_She saw him checking me out, didn't she?_" Machi grumbled.

"You should have seen Alexi. And Julian. And Roberto. Phoenix always ends up running them off when they flirt with him and Miles during the poker game."

Thalassa waved Apollo and the blue-haired lady over. Both were dressed conservatively in black and white. Machi was happy to see Apollo looking so accomplished. His eyes seemed far less hungry than they did those years ago. Thalassa gave the two a hug and a kiss each.

"Hi mom," said Apollo sheepishly, only a little embarrassed by the public display of affection. "Hi Machi. Long time no see." Apollo offered him an awkward handshake. "This is Vera."

And so it went through the night. Machi found himself trotted out and introduced to a dozen of Klavier's guests. Machi tried to catch Klavier's gaze across the room. It seemed when Klavier wasn't throwing his arms around guests and kissing them on the cheek, he had a drink in his hand.

After Thalassa finally finished the rounds, Machi found himself sitting off to the side, watching the crowd with Apollo and Vera. They said very little to one another, bonding in the mutual exhaustion brought by facing such a crowd. They picked at their food.

Machi watched Klavier greet snackoo lady. His stomach turned to cold knots.

Klavier put a casual arm around snackoo lady that she shrugged off. It was only after the being harshly rebuked and assaulted with Christmas-colored snackoos that Klavier made his way over to Machi. "That's everyone, engel. Would you like to play for us now?"

"_Is that the only reason you invited me at all?_" Machi muttered.

"I'm sorry, hasi, I can't really understand Borginian that well." Klavier offered him a hand up. When Machi took it, he pulled the smaller man into an embrace. He kissed Machi in a manner both sloppy and thorough. Machi broke the kiss.

"Klavier," he breathed. "I'm getting drunk off your fumes."

"And I'm getting drunk off you," Klavier snickered, nuzzling his neck.

"Herr Edgeworth said not to embarrass the prosecutor's office." Machi tried to pry Klavier off him. Fortunately, Edgeworth seemed busy chatting with snackoo lady. He was certain the stern man would not approve.

"Why would I embarrass anyone? I'm only showing my lover some affection." Klavier pawed at him, oblivious to how Machi was trying to squirm away. "We've got nothing to hide."

Machi saw Apollo standing up over Klavier's shoulder. He seemed about to interrupt. Machi shook his head, trying to signal him not to interfere. He extracted himself with some effort, holding Klavier by the shoulders. "Klavier, I'm going to start the set now. Mr. Yoostis, please get Klavier to sober up a little."

"But I want to hear you play, it's your present to me," Klavier whined.

"Please, Klavier. For me."

"You can hear him from the kitchen," said Apollo with a sigh, taking Klavier by the arm. "I'll get you some coffee."

Straightening his jacket, Machi crossed the room to where Klavier's keyboard stood by the Christmas tree. He sat at the bench, turned the keyboard to its piano setting and began to play. He was glad he was mostly background music to the laughter of the party. This gave him time to warm up his fingers before launching into slightly more complex music.

It was strange, finally touching keys like this. Machi hadn't forgotten. His fingers glided easily. The notes that came out were full and sweet. He found himself blushing a little at the pleasure of it. He hadn't realized he missed music this much.

"Can you play a duet, mon ami?" Trucy's beret-wearing boyfriend slid next to Machi on the bench. "I would like to sing one with you, I think."

"Get out of my space and I'll consider it," Machi said quietly. Jean Paul laughed and stood behind him. Shaking a little bit, Machi began to plunk out "Good King Wenceslas."

"You can be the king and I'll be the page, okay?" Machi said.

As Machi began to sing the first line of the song, Jean Paul leaned over, putting his hands on Machi's shoulders. Machi was so startled he stopped playing, hitting sour notes. "What are you – I just told you not to do that!"

"What are you doing to my engel?" Klavier yanked Jean Paul away from Machi in a violent motion. "I know I didn't just see you touching him. That would make you a rather poor guest."

"I was just being friendly!" Jean Paul insisted.

"Get out of my party," Klavier snarled.

"Klavier, he's my date for tonight!" Trucy cut in. "I'm sorry for whatever he did, but you need to calm down, okay? I'll make sure he doesn't misbehave again."

Klavier seemed to remember himself just then and let go of the collar of Jean Paul's turtleneck. Jean Paul retreated into a corner. Trucy and Thalassa joined him there.

Everyone else edged away and feigned distraction in other things, except Machi. "Klavier, you're starting to scare me. Jean Paul was being too touchy, but it was nothing I could not handle. Please let Mr. Yoostis sober you up."

Klavier's voice and expression grew soft. He took a single step forward, sitting next to Machi on the piano bench. Machi really didn't like sharing that spot, but he made the exception for Klavier. Machi leaned against his shoulder briefly, feeling fingers brush his hair. "Please keep playing, engel, just one more song for me. Then I'll have the coffee, I'll sit out on the balcony a bit."

Machi began to play. As he hoped, the tune made Klavier smile a little. He began to sing,

"_Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,  
Alles schläft; einsam wacht_"

Machi began to sing along, haltingly. He taught himself a few carols in German from hymnals at the orphanage.

"_Nur das traute hochheilige Paar.  
Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar_"

Klavier pressed his lips to Machi's hair as he sang. Intending to rejoin on the next line, he stopped. Seemed to have something caught in his throat. Looking rather ill, he quickly stood up and walked out of the room. Machi watched him leave but didn't stop playing. He flinched when he saw Ema following him to his room.

The party seemed to getting back into the swing of things and Machi simply wasn't sure if he should interrupt things by ending the entertainment. For the third time this night, someone sat next to him on the bench. Phoenix Wright offered him a grin. "I'll take over."

Machi balked as he stood up and Phoenix took over with clunky, untrained fingers, but what else could he do? As visions of Detective Skye comforting Klavier swam in his mind, Machi rushed into Klavier's bedroom. It was the first time he'd been there since the night they had sex, and now there was this woman.

He found Detective Skye angrily munching snackoos and regarding the closed door to the small balcony adjoining Klavier's bedroom. Unsure what to say to her, Machi walked to the center of the room before looking over at her.

"He's all yours, kid," Ema crunched.

Machi forced a few more steps out of himself, touching the door handle. He saw now why Detective Skye was unable to console Klavier – he wedged a chair between the door and railing, making it difficult to open. He looked over his shoulder at Detective Skye.

"A word of advice?"

"Yes?"

"Don't ever date someone who reminds you of your sister. Science has shown that's a ticket to a bad relationship."

What part of Klavier resembled snackoo lady's sister, his hair? His neatly trimmed eyebrows? Machi nodded, dumbfounded. "I don't have any living relatives, so I don't think that will be a problem."

Detective Skye regarded him with sympathy. It was a vast improvement from the anger and irritation that she'd worn most of the night. "Good luck. And Merry Christmas, I guess."

"Right," said Machi reluctantly. He knocked gently on the glass door.

Klavier leaned on the railing, looking out to the city. He glanced over his shoulder and watched Detective Skye leave. Once his ex-girlfriend was out of sight, he pulled the chair away. Machi opened the door, sucking in a breath when the cold hit him.

"Klavier. Are you feeling better?"

"Are you?" Klavier didn't turn to look at him. The guitarist gently played with his curled hair.

"I'm fine. Worried about you, is all. Can you please come inside so we can talk?"

"What's wrong with here?"

"I'm going to turn blue?" Machi tried for his cutest little voice, hoping to earn a laugh from Klavier.

He didn't laugh, but Klavier straightened out, looking over the young man he'd been entangled with all this time. "Any color would improve you in that outfit, hasi. The gray just washes you out."

"I guess I should've worn green, like the outfit Lamiroir picked. Then we would have matched." Machi presented his hand expectantly. After a moment, Klavier took it and allowed Machi to bring him in from the cold.

They ended up sitting on the very edge of the foot of the bed. Klavier had wrapped presents at the last moment and left wrapping paper, scissors and tape all over the place. Machi found it charming. Klavier tried so hard to be perfect. Yet it suited him in a way to do something average and flaky like that.

Machi held Klavier's hand firmly. "You know what you've been doing wrong tonight, Klavier, you're not stupid. You've been drinking, acting out-of-control…"

"I'm sorry."

"It's because of Kristoph, isn't it?"

Klavier withdrew contact, bending, shrinking, his head in his hands. "I…"

"He was executed recently. That's why you were crying the other day."

Klavier did not reply.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Machi spoke gently. Ran his hand carefully over his back. "I would have gone with you."

"You're one of the few people I know that's never been exposed to him. I didn't want you to be. Not you."

"Klavier… You're stupid, you realize that?" Machi almost laughed.

"Yes," Klavier whispered.

"Not for the reasons you think. Not because he abused you. That's not your fault."

"Everyone always says that, but I was old enough to—"

Machi slipped to the floor in front of Klavier, kneeling. He tilted Klavier's head, forced the eye contact Klavier avoided.

"He's your brother. Was your brother. You love him. I don't know what happened because you haven't told me, but I know it wasn't your fault. It's never anyone's fault that they're abused. That's why it's abuse."

Klavier gave that heartbreaking smile, the one he gave when he was exhausted but pulling together to energy to slam the wall right back into place. "You sound like my therapist."

"You're so stupid," Machi whispered. If he tried to speak with more volume he was sure he wouldn't keep back the tears. "I would have gone with you. I don't care if he's scary, or if you cried… You shouldn't have been alone. And you always go alone. You don't have to. I'm with you. You've always been here for me; please let me return the favor. I love you."

Klavier seemed to unwind himself little by little. He touched Machi's face. "I'm an immoral man, you know," he breathed. "I loved you when I heard you play, that first time, when you were fourteen. You're so sweet."

"I seduced Daryan. Is that sweet?"

"He could have said no. I would have."

"You weren't interested."

"Of course not. You were a child then."

"But you loved me?"

"Ja."

"Wanted me?"

"That came later." Klavier placed a lingering kiss on his lips. "I hated Daryan a little bit. Lamiroir knew about you two and when I found out, I punched him in the stomach."

"You didn't." Again, Machi repressed the urge to laugh.

"I did. I hate his guts, you know. He's such an asshole. He does whatever the hell he wants with no regard to what other people think. You think for a long time that's just his personality, but it's a mask like anyone else wears. He doesn't even really feel happy with it."

"Are you sure hate is the English word you're looking for?"

Klavier was silent for a very long moment, thinking. "He's next, you know."

"Ja." Machi tilted his head, echoing the word he heard Klavier utter so often. "That's what you do, though. They were criminals, and you've punished them."

"And aren't I a criminal? Dating this beautiful man 10 years younger than me."

"Nine," Machi corrected him. Then chuckled. "_Nein._"

"And treating you like I have today. I'm a monster."

Machi pulled fingers through Klavier's hair, tried to straighten and untangle it from the mess the wind left it in. "You're hurting. Trying to numb it. I'd like you to try and talk to me instead of doing that.."

"You mean what you said, didn't you?"

"Which part?"

"That you love me."

Machi nodded serenely. "Would I put up with this if I didn't? How is it someone so charming and egotistical won't just let someone else love him?"

"Ouch," said Klavier with a very forced grin.

"Please don't do that again," Machi sighed. "You really caused a scene."

"I wouldn't dream of hurting you or embarrassing you, hasi."

"It's not for my sake, I can handle it. It's for you. I know it must hurt to see your friends look at you the way they have tonight."

Klavier sighed. Tired of his perch at the end of the bed, he slid down to the floor next to Machi. He leaned against the bed. "I miss him. And I hate him. Years of therapy and I'm still running over the same old ground."

Machi cuddled to his side, running fingers through Klavier's hair. "Pink Floyd?" he asked, resting his forehead against Klavier's shoulder. He hummed a few bars. "_Running over the same old ground, what have we found? The same old fears._"

"_Wish you were here,_" Klavier sang back, quietly. He petted Machi absently. "I think the worst part is that he's my brother. We came from the same people, from the same situation. What if I turn out to be like him? What if I'm more like him than I imagine? I let him manipulate me countless times… I thought I'd make him happy. And then I see how you look at me, how scared you were of me earlier tonight." Klavier swallowed. "Maybe I can't help becoming like him. They say people who were abused re-offend, and I—"

Machi was sick of these words, so he did the only thing he could think of. He yanked Klavier by his hair and kissed him firmly. His free hand slid across the bed until it found its prize. With two snipping sounds, the tension that held Klavier in place suddenly broke.

Machi held Klavier's severed pigtail in one hand, a pair of scissors he'd noticed resting on the bed in the other. "You are not him. See? You don't even look that much like him."

The deep pools of Klavier's eyes filled with tears. They streaked down his face, and Klavier let them. "Machi."

Machi set down the scissors, still clutching Klavier's hair as he put his arms around his older lover. Klavier began to sob, his body shuddering silently. "Shh, it's okay, it's okay. You're going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine."

"Where… am I going to find a hairdresser… at this hour of night?" Klavier sniffled.

"Klavier Gavin, are you fucking serious?" Machi yelped. And then collapsed into peals of laughter. Klavier laughed as well, and they held each other, tangled in limbs on the floor, exhausted.

"Polly, you proposed to Vera?!" Trucy's shouting voice made its way over the murmurings of the party and pierced the dying laughter in Klavier's sealed-off bedroom. "Why didn't you say so earlier?!"

Machi chuckled, bumping foreheads with Klavier. "You should probably get back out there. They're missing their host."

"And their entertainment," Klavier pointed out. He climbed to his feet and helped Machi up. Hand in hand, they rejoined the party.

 

The party was over and the apartment a wreck. Phoenix, Mr. Edgeworth, Thalassa and Trucy all tried to stay behind and help clean up, but Klavier pushed them out the door with charming words and locked the door behind. "Go do something to congratulate the happy couple. I'll take care of this."

It wasn't so bad once the caterers left. Machi picked across the room, grabbing a plastic champagne glass or errant streamer here and there. Klavier sat at the electric piano, plunking at keys until a melody emerged and he began to sing in German.

"What's that?" Machi asked, slipping an arm over Klavier. "Another German carol?"

"Something I've been working on, actually."

"You play too strong with your left hand, it's overwhelming the melody. And I think it might be better to play a little more legato right there in beginning, it sounds clunky."

Klavier slid over on the piano bench. "Why don't you show me?"

Machi recreated Klavier's melody perfectly by ear. Whatever his misgivings about it, Machi's title as piano prodigy was not an incorrect one. "I like this, it's very easy to play. I can feel it touching me." He leaned over to place a kiss to Klavier's cheek. "It's been a long time since you've written a song, hasn't it?"

"And a long time since you've played."

"Why is so important to you that I play again?" Machi studied Klavier's face, pinkish gold in the light of the Christmas tree.

"Because I wrote this song for you. I've been composing it since we met, and now I've started to add words, but it requires someone truly talented at piano."

"Ah," said Machi, kissing Klavier's lips with a knowing look. "So it was all a Gavinners revival after all."

"Nein," said Klavier, placing his hands on Machi's shoulders. "It was for you and I alone. If you will help play it with me."

"Yes," Machi said simply, laying his lips over Klavier's once more. They kissed like this for several long moments. Machi's tongue quested past Klavier's lips. Klavier pulled away, brushing a thumb over Machi's cheek.

"I have a hair appointment first thing in the morning, and you have dress rehearsal. We should get to bed."

"Okay," said Machi, standing. "Make sure to drink a big glass of water or you're going to be really hung over." He walked to the bedroom, stopped in the hall to smile over at Klavier. "Drink lots of water before you go to bed, or you're going to be really hung over, love." That little word of affection slipped out and embarrassed him, but Klavier only seemed pleased. Then again, Klavier gave him nicknames that would be embarrassing in English.

"Of course, engel."

Despite this being only their second night spent together, they were oddly comfortable as they tumbled into bedtime routines, brushing their teeth, washing their faces and combing out the tangles of the day. Machi made sure to call Joella to let her know he was staying tonight.

"Are you excited for tomorrow?" Klavier asked as Machi crawled beneath the covers beside him.

"Yes, it's not difficult. I'm only in the first part of the play."

"The ghost of Christmas past? Funny they cast you, I thought it was a girl's part."

"The book says it was a boy, someone youthful and blond," Machi yawned, turning to spoon Klavier, arms around him. Klavier stiffened in the hold, and after a moment, Machi let go. "You never read the book?"

"The Gavinners was already a hit band when I was your age. I didn't have time for reading."

"Then I guess the play will be a new experience." Machi tried to get comfortable. Klavier always turned to face him, didn't like Machi behind him. Machi didn't fight, and instead let Klavier hold him.

"I know the story of a man who gets his heart back because it's Christmas," said Klavier. "Kristoph always said it was a silly story, so it wasn't really tolerated in our household."

"It's about more than that," said Machi, playing with Klavier's fingers. "It's about a man's ability to look forward and embrace his blessings, rather than destroying everything around him for the past."

"An uplifting if unlikely story," Klavier slurred sleepily.

"It's more likely than it seems, don't you think?" Machi lifted Klavier's hand and pressed a kiss to the palm.

Klavier said nothing. He was asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The scene with the party / Machi cutting Klavier's hair was one I'd been working towards since I began the story.  
> *Jean Paul was spur-of-the-moment and I forgot there was already a French Jean in AA. I just wanted someone who seemed to be a little bit similar to Klavier, though more of a jerk.  
> *LOL Trucy and Thalassa are fag hags. Trucy obviously just needs to find her happy couple of men who want her in the equation too.


	7. Chapter 7

Machi stared deeply at his reflection. His make up was thick. There was rouge on his cheeks and glitter in his hair. The green room at his high school's performing arts center was much smaller than the ones he visited in his tours with Lamiroir, but he liked it better. The dingy walls and the lights that surrounded the make up mirrors were half out and the paint on the walls was peeling. There was a comfort in the history of this place.

Machi picked up a tube of lipstick in a shade Daryan would have referred to as 'fuck me' red. Watching his own face as a little smile struggled to free itself, Machi drew the patented Gavinners G on the mirror.

And suddenly he was remembering Daryan's arms.

_Daryan sneaks up behind him, slides hands around his waist._

"Whatcha doing?"

"Waiting," Machi replied to Daryan-in-his-memory. "But not for you. I'm waiting for someone who loves me."

Machi stared at his reflection and blinked several times. There was no one behind him. The rest of the Christmas Carol cast already stumbled out of their clothes, born giddy and sweaty into the winter air. They were on their way to the cast party. Tonight was closing night. Machi didn't really feel like tagging along. After the scene at Klavier's party, he was burnt out on social situations for the next month or two. Too bad he still had Christmas morning with his foster family and Klavier to worry about, not to mention the New Years Ball the prosecutor's office always threw.

He smoothed out the creases in his flowing white robe. Something about the fabric made him think of his stage costume from long ago, the elegant and fluttering clothes that were Borginian tradition.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Machi rose to answer the door and was greeted by a face full of blue Borginian lilies.

"Klavier," Machi smiled. "Where did you get these?"

"I was at my wits end, thinking I'd have to fly them in after Lamiroir said they're your favorite, luckily, the folks at our Borginian café knew a specialty florist." Klavier placed the bouquet in Machi's arms. "You are so lovely," he murmured in quiet awe. "Hold on a moment." He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and took a picture. "Now you're my wallpaper."

"You didn't," Machi sighed, looking around for a vase to put the flowers in. In the end he just set them aside on the counter. He preferred Klavier in his arms to flowers, lovely as they were. He pressed his cheek to Klavier's chest, rubbing make up on it.

"Tsk," sighed Klavier, scraping a little of the foundation off Machi's cheek with a precise thumbnail. "All over my suit."

"Revenge for taking my picture when my make up is dirty smears and I'm dressed in my play costume. And really, you've sent me flowers every night I've been on. I'm running out of places to put them and Joella's getting annoyed. There's no need, I just wanted to see you."

"Why haven't you changed?" Klavier brushed some of the glitter from Machi's hair.

"I would say I've changed quite a bit since you've met me," Machi pointed out. "A lot happens in four years."

"A lot has happened in this year alone," Klavier agreed. "But you know that's not what I meant."

"But I don't speak English very well, sir," Machi snorted, letting go of Klavier to get his coat.

"You're just going to wear it, then?" Klavier stared at Machi, his expression caught between confusion and amusement.

"Don't I look like a Christmas tree angel?" Machi spoke sweetly, as if his tone might summon a pair of wings to his back.

"Maybe if you kept the wreath with the candles on your head. You could light the way to the car." Klavier offered his arm to lead Machi out to the car, but Machi didn't take it. Instead he threw his arms around Klavier. Pushed him back onto the make up counter, fingers in his newly cropped hair. Klavier didn't protest because he was not allowed a moment to do so. Instead, Machi kissed him forcefully, filling the space for words with tongue instead.

He withdrew with a sigh and a swipe of his tongue over Klavier's lips.

"Engel," Klavier coughed, looking around. "Is this a good idea?" He was attempting stern but the words came out desirous.

"No," said Machi simply, insinuating himself between Klavier's legs. He pressed his lips to Klavier's ear as his hand crept up the inside of his thigh. "I had an idea lately."

"Oh?" A simple word for a simple movement. Klavier opened his legs a little more to welcome Machi's weight. Machi repaid the favor by immediately touching Klavier's stiffening cock. This earned a rather pleasant little noise, an "oh" that was somehow quite different than the first.

"Maybe I should wear this for you Christmas, lights and all."

Klavier chuckled. The vibrations moved through both their bodies and made Machi smile. "You have some kind of costume fetish, don't you? This and the skimpy Santa outfit, we could both be dressed up for Christmas. We should wear _that_ to your family Christmas breakfast."

"I have a lot of different fetishes," Machi informed him, fingering the zipper of Klavier's pants. "Costume fetishes, rock star fetishes, older men, public places…"

"You're just using me for the sex, aren't you?" Klavier chuckled.

"What sex? We haven't since that time." Machi had to look at Klavier's expression to make sure he didn't mean his joke. Klavier's blue eyes sparkled fondly. He gave Machi a soft kiss.

"Does it bother you?" There was vulnerability, a worry creasing Klavier's brow. Machi tried to kiss it away. "You went off in your head like you do sometimes, I don't want to lose you, I…"

"Shh." Machi pressed fingers to Klavier's lips. "Even if that happens again, I'll come back to you. I'm working on getting better, did you know? I'm seeing a new therapist; I'm going to group with Mr. Edgeworth… you should come too. We're healing. We can do this together. We have the support of our family."

"Ja, ja, it might be a good idea," said Klavier in a strange voice. "Hasi?"

"Yes, love?"

"Are you finished playing with it? It's not that I don't enjoy your touch, but if we continue the lines of this conversation you'll traumatize me."

"Ah," said Machi, glancing down where he'd allowed his hand to idle over Klavier's crotch. "I'm sorry, I suppose I should stop that."

"Good," Klavier breathed, "We can continue at my apa—oh!"

Rather than end his attentions, Machi knelt between Klavier's legs, unzipped his fly and drew Klavier's cock out into the cramped air of the green room. He began to give what could only be described as an incredibly enthusiastic blowjob. From the noises he made, he almost seemed to enjoy it more than Klavier. Klavier struggled to find a grip on the counter.

"Hasi, you really shouldn't, your teachers are around, they'll kill us if they see this," Klavier moaned. His own protests fueled the fire. As Machi suspected, risk-taking was a fetish of his as well. "Absolutely… kill us…" Klavier breathed deliciously, his fingers in Machi's hair. As he quickened pace, those fingers tugged, much to Machi's delight.

Machi made a noise of protest when Klavier stopped him. He looked up at Klavier, worried. Klavier smiled and stroked his cheek. He offered Machi a hand up, and a kiss to his sticky mouth. Then he pulled Machi around to face the mirror.

"The Gavinners," Klavier noted the mark on the mirror. "Why?"

"It makes me happy, thinking of the times we made music together. I want to do it again."

"Soon." Klavier found the hem of Machi's robe and pulled it up over his hips. He laughed as he tried to navigate the diaphanous cloth and it kept slipping down. "You're swimming in this costume," he complained. "I think I'd like you dressed in something a little less ungainly, like a sugarplum fairy." Despite his grousing, he went to his business, grasping Machi firmly through his underwear, kissing Machi's neck and shoulder, chest flat to his back.

"There aren't any sugarplum fairies in A Christmas Carol," Machi gasped.

"Just the same, I'd like to see you in something that showed off your body more. You always hide it. Long sleeves, layers… and you're so lovely, aren't you?"

"N…no, I'm tiny and skinny." Machi squirmed and scrabbled, upsetting the make up on the table just trying to get steady.

"Nein," Klavier breathed in his ear. Somehow through bunches of fabric he managed to get the waistband of Machi's underwear and yank it down just above his knees. Now Machi was free against the soft cloth of his costume with Klavier jerking him in earnest. "You are lovely. And I want you to see yourself while I make love to you."

Machi remembered their first time, Klavier between his legs in the bathroom, himself reflected. He couldn't lose himself when he focused on the sight of them. "Is it making love when it's over a make up counter?" he smirked.

"Hold your robe up, I haven't enough hands," said Klavier, ignoring the joke.

Machi pulled up his robe, spreading the extra fabric across the counter. "Hurry, I can't keep this up, I can't balance at all – nnh!" Apparently opportunistic, Klavier had lube with him, and didn't hesitate to use the cold, sticky stuff to prepare. "Next time, warn me!" Machi hissed.

"I thought you said to hurry." Klavier's voice matched his fingers: too deliberate, too slow. Savoring. Machi sort of wanted to kill him for how much fun he was having.

"That… oh, _fuck, Klavier, that's it right there fuck…_" The skill of Klavier's fingers destroyed Machi's annoyance, as well as his ability to speak coherently in English. Though his Borginian wasn't much more understandable.

Machi watched both their faces as Klavier pushed him deep. Color sprang into his face as he watched himself cry out. Klavier glanced to their reflections occasionally, biting his lips as he took Machi with slow but brutal thrusts, hands on his hips. Then he pressed lips to Machi's ear and said, "Don't you see? Don't you see how beautiful you are?"

"Y-yes, you, me, both, _please, Klavier, faster, harder…_" Machi whimpered, afraid to let his voice rise. True, the cast was gone but that didn't mean someone wasn't around. Speaking more softly just drove him madder; the extra energy he couldn't express seemed trapped within him, ready to burst in mere moments.

"I could listen to your voice all day," purred Klavier. Enjoying the urgency, he decided to oblige it, quickening his rhythm. The sheer heat made him curse in German. Both of them muttered in their mother tongues without a single need for translation.

Machi couldn't stand it any longer. He let go of his robe, letting the cloth billow around their dancing forms. He only barely held himself up on the counter, slipping the other hand to relieve the pointed ache that summed up his needs.

"Look up," Klavier demanded through gritted teeth. "I want to see. I want you to… nn."

Machi did as he was bid. He stared wide-eyed at his own face, flushed and wild, glitter falling from his hair. He looked at Klavier watching him, more concerned for Machi's pleasure than his own hungry. "Tell me you love me," Machi suddenly said.

"Isn't that obvious yet?" Klavier panted. His hair was dampened to his forehead, mussed, and Machi wondered if he knew he was loveliest like that.

"Tell me, or else it isn't making love!"

"I love you. You heard the song, didn't you?"

Machi nodded. "I'm, I want you to, please, inside of me..."

"I love you," Klavier whispered and then quickly pushed them somewhere words and language were irrelevant. Both held back, watching the other, waiting for the other. Machi's willpower gave out first, perhaps betrayed by his youthfulness as his arching tension, exultant expression and tender gasps sent Klavier there immediately.

Knees gave out mere seconds afterwards, though neither was sure if it was the other's or both.

The sounds of The Ramones "I Wanna Be Sedated" drifted tinny through the room. Klavier cursed and untangled them, opening his phone.

"Herr Wright," he said, much more cheerful than his pissed off expression granted. "Ja? Ja. Ja. Thank you."

"I think you broke my ass," Machi laughed, staggering to his feet to look for his regular clothes. Klavier gave an exhausted chortle.

"We've got a little problem, engel."

"Kleenex?" Machi offered him a box.

Klavier took some. "Herr Wright and Frau Thalassa decided to come see what was taking us so long and got mobbed by a news crew outside the door. Apparently our story's broken to mainstream now."

"All things considered, it took them awhile to figure it out." Machi did his best to clean himself up with what he had before climbing into his jeans, pulling on his turtleneck and Queen T-shirt over that. "Where the hell are my sneakers?"

Klavier didn't have to clean himself up as much, and was soon much more focused on dabbing away the sweat on his brow and neatening his hair. "If you don't want to talk to them, I will. I understand how you value your privacy, but we should probably face them head on. They've put a lot of effort in trying to film us leaving together, if we try and sneak away we'll look worse."

"Found them!"

"Are you listening, hasi?"

"Ja," said Machi, crouching to tie his shoe. "They're going to want to know about how we're always sighted together and all."

Klavier nodded. "Why don't I tell them we're collaborating? That's a good explanation."

Machi took off what remained of his make up with cold cream and patted his face clean with tissue. After pulling on his long wool jacket, he picked up the bouquet and smiled at Klavier. "Okay. Let's do this!" The short walk down the hall seemed to take a silent eternity. Then suddenly they were out in the inky December night, chilled and suddenly not alone.

Klavier was far more used to the flash going off in his face, the reporters with microphones and notepads. Klavier put on his most dazzling smile, wishing he could put an arm around Machi's waist. He could feel the younger man cowering a little against him.

"Mr. Gavin! Mr. Tobaye! Do you have any comments on rumors of your involvement?" A reporter barked.

"It is true that Herr Tobaye and I have been seeing a lot of each other, but there is an explanation." Klavier spoke slowly and clearly. "We're working on a song together."

The reporters shoved and yelled to get a word in edgewise. "When will it be released?"

"Does this mean a reunion for the Gavinners?"

"What about Daryan Crescend?"

"What sort of song is it?"

Klavier just smiled, allowing his thoughts to catch up to the questions. Machi threw himself in front of him. His smile was a far more sincere one.

"It's a love song," said Machi. "It's not for the Gavinners. It's something new, for the both of us. Just us." He held out his free hand. Stunned, Klavier took it. He could hear the movement of lenses in cameras as they zoomed in.

"As for the release date," Klavier added, "We don't know just yet." He squeezed Machi's hand, completely unaware that his smile had turned from dazzling to shy.

"It's a work in progress," Machi explained. "But we're working our hardest, so please look forward to it!"

Holding Klavier's hand tightly, Machi didn't shy or squint in the bright light of the cameras. He guided the older man to Edgeworth's car, where their friends waited. They climbed in and the car took off to their next destination.

Once in the car, Phoenix couldn't resist turning around in the seat to tease them:

"You two sure dallied. I hope you used protection."

"That's hardly fair, Phoenix," Edgeworth interjected from the driver's seat. "You told Machi to take his time because you were busy flirting with the drama teacher."

"Objection! I was not flirting."

"You were too," Thalassa laughed, hitting Phoenix upside the head playfully. It was really more of a tap, but Phoenix played at being very offended and turned around with a sniff.

Thalassa squeezed Machi around the shoulders. "You did well out there, Machi."

"Thanks, mama." Machi leaned against her shoulder.

"You've done well too, Klavier." Thalassa reached around to tousle Klavier's hair. "Your new look really suits you."

"Thank you. I think so too, even if acquiring it was rather drastic." Klavier ran fingers through his own hair, doing a peacock pose unconsciously.

"What happened to my Ramones mp3s?" Phoenix whined to Edgeworth from the front seat. He was flipping through the iPod connected to the car stereo system. "Don't tell me you deleted them."

"It's my car and I don't want that _noise_ playing," Edgeworth grunted. "Besides, it was taking up space. I wanted to put this lovely version of _Turandot_ Machi gave me on it."

"You deleted the Ramones for more boring opera? And it's all Machi's fault?"

"Puccini is a genius," said Machi unapologetically.

"I find his melodies to be rather predictable, actually," said Klavier.

"If you heard this recording you'd feel differently," Machi insisted.

"_Turandot_ is a flawed masterpiece at best," Klavier shrugged. "He didn't even finish it."

"I must agree with young Machi," said Edgeworth, "_Turandot_ is one of Puccini's more complex and certainly most tonally adventurous works, and I think—"

"This stuff puts me to sleep. I can't believe you deleted my Ramones." Phoenix sulked.

Machi smiled and snuggled between Klavier and Thalassa. He closed his eyes and listened as the argument descended into laughter and gentle teasing. He listened to the notes of care and affection in the voices of the other passengers, his family. He fell asleep to the sounds of love.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> *Title is from an awesome [song by And One](http://youtube.com/watch?v=x-zo0JW3yp8), because even though it's EBM and the Gavinners are rock, this is what I listen to when I imagine Klavier's vocals. The title means "sounds of love," "this is what love sounds like" or something to that effect, I have no idea actually because I speak no German. It could mean "giraffe pajamas" and I wouldn't know. Sorry. Also, I realized pretty soon in that it didn't make a whole lot of sense to give this fic a German name when it's mostly from Machi's perspective, but oh well. It's distinctive, ja?  
> *Klavier's ringtone for Edgeworth is [Habanera](http://youtube.com/watch?v=LKPWTnlLvUk). I don't know when I began associating this song with Edgeworth, but if you watch the kink meme you may see something else I've written that involves him and this piece. X3  
> *Machi's ringtone for Joella is better known as [Flight of the Valkyries](http://youtube.com/watch?v=Ia2lqlEFjrE). Says something about what he thinks of her personality, doesn't it? :x


End file.
